


Charming the Serpent

by Liliume



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, M/M, Mpreg, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliume/pseuds/Liliume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry accidentally travels back in time to 1943, where he tries to assimilate student life at Hogwarts while learning to live alongside Tom Riddle and changing the past and future as he pleases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Time-Turner

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Serpentine](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/25641) by ereinhart. 



> This fic was adopted from ereinhart over at FF.net. While it's an adoption, it's also more of an adaptation of the original fic. I have all of the author's original notes and plan to continue the story as she planned it. Before that, however, I'm rewriting what she already had written to make more sense and flow easier. Firstly, her Harry is a little bipolar and while he's cute sometimes, other times he's just really strange. So I'll try to mellow him out somewhat. Her original characters are actually more fleshed out in her notes and I thought there were a lot of interesting little tidbits that could be included in the story to make them easier to remember.
> 
> So anyway, I hope my version of the fic is as good as the original and that you will all like it.

For what was to be his last week at the Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry Potter kept mostly to his room to avoid his relatives. The last thing he needed was problems arising at the last minute as they usually did during the summer.

He was tired. So, so tired. The nightmares that had plagued him; from Dumbledore's death at the hands of Snape, to Sirius' death at the hands of his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. Her laughter, cackling and cruel, echoed in his dreams as she mocked him.

Often it appeared as though she starred in his nightmares more so than even Voldemort, whose visage made appearances but not enough to cause him overmuch distress. Voldemort was familiar and had become ordinary, as far as dreams were concerned.

Harry was filled with bitter thoughts as he readied his trunk. He was due to be picked up soon, could no longer stay at Privet Drive once the wards fell. He wondered vaguely how the Order would be getting him out of Privet Drive, wondered if Voldemort and the Death Eaters were nearby just waiting for the chance to strike.

The thought of the attack that was, no doubt, coming did not leave such a queasy feeling in his stomach as the thought of his task. To find and destroy all of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

There was much commotion in the hallway and throughout the house as the Dursleys hurried around gathering their own suitcases and bags. They were being removed to a "safe location" by Aurors, though Harry did not know much – nor did he care to know – about it.

As he shook his school robes, an item fell to the floor and rolled to a stop near his feet. Harry blinked and stooped to pick up the time-turner. He had forgotten all about it.

It was Hermione's deactivated time-turner. The one they had used to save Sirius in third year and which had been given to him by McGonagall at the end of the previous school year.

" _I thought you might like to keep this as a reminder_ ," she'd said. " _It is nothing more than a trinket now_."

Nothing more than a trinket but once upon a time it had saved someone's life. Someone Harry had deeply cared about, for all his flaws and perceived sanity.

He blinked again and furrowed his eyebrows. There was a strange red light emitting from the time-turner. He brought it up to his face to inspect it closely. It appeared like little flames inside the hourglass, but the light vanished before he could get a closer look at it, however. Deciding it was just a trick of his mind, he placed the chain around his neck and thought no more of it after tucking it neatly under his shirt.

Harry took a deep breath, gathering his courage as though he were about to face something ferocious or terrifying. But wasn't he?

Out in the hallway Harry noticed Dudley walking up the stairs, a frown on his face. He paused momentarily upon seeing Harry, then resumed down the hallway to his room with a barely noticeable nod of his head.

Harry raised his eyebrows at his cousin's back and with a shake of his own head started down the stairs. Next thing he knew something heavy collided with his back and the impact sent him head first down the stairs. He instinctively curled his body as he crashed against a wall and then down more stairs. His vision swam in and out of focus until it finally went dark as he lost consciousness.

He awoke to the sound of people whispering furiously. The sound was vague as though passing through a curtain. He did not immediately recognize any of the voices, but due to the sound being so filtered it was not surprising.

The most apparent thing to him, however, was that he was no longer at Number 4. He could tell – even without opening his eyes – that he was in the Hogwarts' infirmary. It was an easy thing to figure, as he had spent a majority of his school days in the infirmary and he could easily recognize the smell of the room and the feel of the bed.

"You're finally awake," someone to his right said. A warm hand ruffled his hair – or at least attempted to – before deciding to simply pat his head. "I was beginning to grow worried."

Harry forced his eyes open, blinking several times as he turned to stare at the person sitting at his side. The world was blurred and he wondered where his glasses had gone. But as he continued to blink, the room spun into focus until he could clearly gaze upon his companion with much shock. It was a boy who looked to be his age or older, with bright red hair and blue eyes that shone violet in the light.

The sounds of more whispering filtered into the curtained off area and Harry gazed curiously towards it.

"Don't worry about them," the boy said, drawing his curious gaze once again. "They're curious about the boy who fell from the sky but they won't come in here without my permission. Can't say I blame them."

"Who-what . . .?" Harry stuttered. He attempted to sit up, yelping as pain rippled down his back and throughout his body.

"Don't move now," the boy scolded, gently helping him to settle back down. He moved to the table at the side of the bed. "Pain relieving potion or Muggle pills?"

Harry blinked owlishly at the ceiling. "Er . . ." He looked between the hands offering him two different objects. There were two rather large-looking pills in the boy's left hand while the other hand held a foul smelling potion that he was quite intimate with. With a sigh, he reached for the potion and knocked it back, swallowing it down automatically. He barely registered the taste of it, handing the shocked looking boy the empty vial.

The boy shook his head, blinking rapidly. "Well . . . That's the first time I've seen someone swallow that potion so fast . . . and without gagging." He moved to tuck Harry in and Harry allowed it, feeling at ease in the boy's continued presence.

"Who are you?" he managed to ask drowsily.

"Oh," the boy smiled sheepishly, moving back to his seat. "Forgive me. I'm Leoned Potter."

Harry blinked sleepily. "Really? That's odd. I'm Harry . . . Harry Potter."

Leoned paused his rearranging of the covers, his expression momentarily blank. He quickly recovered and smiled widely, turning to speak to the bedridden boy only to snap his mouth shut as he realized that Harry was sleeping. He eyed the boy speculatively, his hands still smoothing away imaginary wrinkles on the cover.

Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. "Harry Potter, eh?" He smiled to himself, standing up with a grunt. He took a moment to gently ruffle Harry's hair one more time before pulling back the curtain and walking out of the enclosed space. He narrowed his eyes at everyone gathered around the infirmary and they all quickly grew silent, eying him with wide eyes. "What are you all still doing here? Don't you have other things to do? Homework?"

They all glanced at each other uncertainly, before the only other red head present decided to venture an answer, bravely yet cautiously. "We just wanted to make sure the boy was all right."

Leoned frowned at them. "Well, I can't kick you out as long as you're not disturbing the patients. So keep quiet. Elephants are quiet than you lot."

They all nodded in understanding and turned to whisper to each other; a few of them gathered up their things and said their goodbyes.

Leoned quickly walked to the enclosed space beside Harry's, pulling back the curtains to enter and quickly shutting them behind him again. His shoulders slumped and he let out another sigh; it had been a tiring day.

"What's the matter?" asked the boy on the bed.

Quickly fixing his expression, he turned and smiled. He shook his head as he moved to the bed. "Nothing is the matter. Just tired. How are you feeling?"

The boy on the bed shrugged, still holding a large bag of ice to his head. "I'll live. How's the Mystery Boy?"

"Sleeping," Leoned replied. "He woke up for about five minutes and I gave him some pain relieving potion. We'll see how he is when he wakes up again."

"Have you talked to him at all?"

"Briefly," said Leoned, reaching forward to retrieve the ice bag and peer closely at the boy's face. "Vincent . . . Have you been holding this to your face the entire time?" He poked delicately at the cold skin. "I told you to stop in ten minutes!"

"But the pain hasn't gone away, Leoned," Vincent groaned, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. He heaved and dropped boneless to the bed. "So, what did he have to say?"

The red head was frowning at him darkly but allowed the distraction. "He told me his name."

"Oh?" Vincent cocked an eyebrow. "Were we right?"

Leoned pursed his lips, then nodded slowly. "His name is Harry, though." He wrinkled his nose adorably. "Not that Harry is a bad name. But . . . perhaps he was named after Grandfather Henry?"

"Harry Potter?" Vincent said thoughtfully. "There hasn't been a Harry in our family . . . Ever. I don't think. Maybe he's not from our side of the family?"

"Maybe," Leoned withdrew a long chain from his pant pocket. Vincent watched him as he examined the item he held, turning it over in his hands. "Clever little contraption. I've never seen one of these up close before."

"Hard to imagine a little hourglass can send a person back in time," said Vincent.

"Hard to imagine," Leoned echoed.

When Harry next woke he was alone and there was no whispering. The infirmary was silent but only for a moment, as Leoned entered the space not long after Harry woke. The red head smiled at him and moved to his side.

"How are you feeling this morning? You slept through the night," he said.

"Better," Harry mumbled. He shifted slightly and winced when there was a slight pain up his back, but that aside there was nothing else bothering him.

"I'd guess that right now you're just sore."

Harry observed him carefully, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Are you the healer?"

Leoned shook his head and laughed. "No, no. She had to make a run to St. Mungo's to gather some potions we need. She'll be back much later. Don't worry, I'm a certified Apprentice Healer."

"Apprentice Healer?" Harry parroted and eyed the boy's school uniform dubiously.

"I'm sixteen, I passed my certification this past summer and have been helping Madam Rosemary here in the Hospital Wing." Harry nodded slowly, still gazing at him disbelievingly. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen. It was going to be my birthday in a day, though."

"What year were you born in?" Leoned asked in a soothing voice, eyes bright.

"1980," Harry mumbled suspiciously. "You said you were Leoned _Potter_?"

"That's my name," agreed Leoned, gazing at Harry with too-bright eyes.

"Right. Can you tell me how I arrived at Hogwarts? I was falling down the stairs and then I woke up here."

The red head slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the time-turner. All under Harry's suspicious gaze. He held the artifact out to the boy, who took it gently.

"Seems you had a little accident with time."

Harry sat and tried to gather his thoughts. He gently turned the time-turner in his hands; the hourglass was empty of all sand and the chain was torn. "What year is this?"

"Today is the 3rd of January, 1943."

Harry groaned and flopped forward, hiding his face between his knees. Leoned made a startled sound and moved to his side, running his hand over Harry's head soothingly.

"Aside from not being in your own time, what about this upsets you? Or is that just it?"

"It's nothing. You wouldn't understand," Harry finally muttered. He frowned angrily and turned to face the other boy. "What am I going to do now?"

"Well, firstly you should rest and heal. You fell from the sky, you know. You were lucky as we were having Quidditch practice at the time or you wouldn't have had anyone to land on."

Harry cringed. "I landed on someone?"

"Quite so. You landed on my dear brother, Vincent," Leoned waved his hand towards Harry's right, then simply reached forward and pulled the curtain back slightly. He peaked through the small opening into the next space. "You up for meeting Mystery Boy?"

_Mystery Boy_? Harry mouthed to himself disbelievingly. He'd been there for a day, possibly less, and they were already entitling him with strange names.

In the next moment they were joined by a tall, broad, dark haired boy who quickly made himself at home in the empty chair with a groan. Leoned sniffed at him snootily and made himself comfortable at the foot of the bed.

"Vince, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter," Leoned introduced. "Harry, this is my brother Vincent Potter."

The newly dubbed "Vincent" sat forward in the chair, eying Harry speculatively. Harry, himself, was gazing back at him with equal intensity.

Vincent Potter looked like a younger version of the James Potter pictured in Harry's album. The only major difference was the lack of glasses covering the blue eyes staring back at him.

"He has your face," Vincent finally commented, flicking a glance at Leoned.

"He has your hair," Leoned said.

"You don't look anything alike," said Harry helplessly, shifting nervously under their combined scrutiny.

"Half-brothers," Vincent mumbled. He stood with a groan and crossed his arms over his chest as he observed them both. "What are you going to do now?"

"Well, once he's feeling a bit better I have to take him to the Headmaster's office."

"Why?" Vincent demanded, surprised.

Harry remained silent as he observed them.

"I told him he should contact the Ministry," Leoned explained. "But that was this morning and he likely forgot to do so."

Vincent snorted and rolled his eyes. "Of course."

Harry decided to take that moment to interrupt and cleared his throat. "I'm actually feeling a lot better now. If you don't mind, I'd just like to get this over with."

Vincent cocked his eyebrow, in an eerily similar manner to Harry's, but said nothing. He simply turned and walked out, leaving Leoned smiling awkwardly at Harry.

"Sorry about him. He's had a hard couple of days."

Harry gazed at him blankly. "And I haven't?"

Leoned stood abruptly. "I'll find your clothes, yes?"

Harry simply nodded. He waited for the boy to leave his space before checking himself over. He was wearing someone's pajamas and they were rather large on him, too. He had no wand, it wasn't on the bedside table or anywhere he could see. Also, where were his glasses? It was odd that he could see perfectly clear since he wasn't wearing them.

He sat still when Leoned re-entered half-an-hour later, carrying a stack of clothes that most certainly were not Harry's. "Well. Your clothes are really not in the best condition and they seem too large for you anyway. So I managed to procure these for you. At least until we can get you some clothing of your own."

"Thank you," Harry managed, unsure of what else to say as he took the offered clothing.

"I'll leave you to get dressed, call if you require assistance. I'll be just outside," he waited for Harry to nod before leaving the boy alone. Once on the other side, he elbow Vincent sharply on the side. The older boy grunted in pain and turned to look at him somewhat hurt. "What's the matter with you? You didn't have to be so rude to him."

"I wasn't rude on purpose," Vincent hissed back, his gaze drifting over Leoned's shoulder where a fifth year Slytherin Prefect had entered the Hospital Wing and was making his way towards them. "There's something odd about him. I can't put my finger on it."

"There's nothing _odd_ about him," muttered Leoned angrily. He turned to face the approaching Prefect, but not before growling, " _Behave_."

Vincent merely grunted in response. He narrowed his eyes at the boy that moved to stand before them. "Riddle."

"Potter," Tom Riddle raised an eyebrow at him mockingly before dismissing him, turning to face Leoned. "How's the-?"

Harry walked out then, looking down at his shirt as he buttoned it. "This shirt is really, really big . . ."

"You're just too small," replied Vincent instantly. And really, he was. The boy barely came up to Leoned's shoulder and they were supposedly the same age. He was thin, as well, Vincent noticed, and almost dwarfed in the clothes Leoned had provided for him.

Leoned made a clucking sound with his tongue before pushing past Vincent and Tom Riddle to help the boy look somewhat presentable. It was amusing, as always, to watch Leoned at work. Vincent smiled as Harry squawked and flailed his arms about, unsure of what to do with them as Leoned pulled him this way and that to straighten out his clothing.

Beside Vincent, Tom stared at the scene before him. Half shocked, slightly amused, and very irritated. His irritation only lasted until Mystery Boy, as they had taken to calling him, finally lifted his head and their gazes locked.

Large emerald-green eyes blinked at him in obvious surprise. Neither of them noticed that Leoned had finished rearranging Harry's clothes and was standing there, eyes jumping from one boy to the other and back again.

The red head finally cleared his throat, startling Harry and drawing the two boys' attention. "Riddle. I'd like you to meet Harry Potter. Harry, this is Tom Riddle. He's the fifth year Slytherin Prefect."

"Nice to meet you," Harry grumbled to the wall over the boy's left shoulder.

"Right," Tom said slowly, still staring at Harry.

"He was present during the . . ." Leoned waved his hands about. "Falling thing."

All three boys threw him incredulous looks and he shrugged helplessly.

Harry cringed, then immediately cleared his expression when Tom turned to look at him again. "Oh. How many people were present during the . . . falling thing?"

Leoned looked sheepish. "It was . . . quite a few."

"Are you planning on introducing me as Harry Potter to everyone?" Harry wondered, confused. "I thought one of the rules of time travel was to never reveal your name."

Leoned gawked at him, horrified. "Well-I-"

"It's a moot point," Tom said. "Everyone who was present during your fall knows you're a time traveler. Also, appearance wise you could be a clone of . . ." He waved his hand imperiously towards Vincent. "So you're obviously a Potter. Considering how _he_ was conceived . . ."

"It's very imperative for your continued well-being that you don't finish that sentence," Vincent growled suddenly, furious. Leoned, on the other hand, was looking very peaky and had gone extremely pale.

_Half-brother_ , thought Harry with sudden understanding.

"We should go see the Headmaster, now that you're up," Tom said with not a care towards either Vincent or Leoned, his hazel eyes remained fixed on Harry and there was a suspicious yet curious glint in his eyes. Harry noticed the attention belatedly and gave the Prefect a strange look, unsure of how to handle him.

"The others . . ." Leoned began faintly.

"The others have already been summoned to the Headmaster's office," said Tom with a bored tone of voice. "I was told to take you there."

Harry frowned as he surreptitiously eyed Tom Riddle from the corner of his eye. Vincent looked about ready to start dueling the Slytherin Prefect and while that would be interesting to watch – if only so Harry could see how good a wizard Riddle truly was –, Harry thought he'd rather get everything else figured out before focusing on the future Dark Lord.

So with one last look at the trio of students, Harry left the Hospital Wing, quietly and with the ease of someone accustomed to sneaking around.

As he walked down the hallways, dodging students and teachers and even some wayward pets, he wondered if the Headmaster's office was located in the same location as Dumbledore's had been. But then, why wouldn't it be? Many things about the Wizarding World tended to stay the same, no matter the amount of time that passed, so why would something like the location of the Headmaster's office be any different?

The Headmaster's office was, indeed, located in the same place. Harry guessed the only problem would be figuring out the password and he stared at the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance thoughtfully. If he remembered correctly – and he knew he did – it was Armando Dippet who was the Headmaster of Hogwarts at the time. It was quite unfortunate that he knew absolutely nothing about the man aside that he was very old. Twice as old as Dumbledore, even!

From Leoned's exasperated comment earlier, Harry deduced that Headmaster Dippet was also very forgetful. But then, he _was_ rather old.

He realized eventually that there was someone standing beside him and was not even slightly surprised to find Albus Dumbledore – with bright auburn hair! – at his side.

"You must be the Mystery Boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed, eyes glinting with amusement.

"That's what they're calling me," Harry agreed reluctantly. Really, even _Dumbledore_ was calling him that silly name!

"What would your name be, then?"

Harry deliberated coming up with some random name but in the end decided not to. He had already revealed his name to Leoned without a thought, it would have been stupid to change it suddenly. Especially as the boy had already introduced him as Harry Potter to both Vincent Potter and Tom Riddle. It was very likely that he had told "the others" his name, as well. That was just as well, Harry was not so creative that he could come up with a name on the spot.

"Harry Potter," he said finally.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore repeated slowly, nodding thoughtfully. "That makes sense. You have an uncanny likeness to the Potters. Now then, the headmaster is waiting."

The professor led the way up to the Headmaster's office, though Harry had not even heard him utter a password.

Headmaster Dippet was an old, balding man. His eyes drowsy and uninterested as he looked upon them, a confused expression on his face. He stood and Harry could see that he was not very tall either. "Why are you here again?"

Harry's attention shifted to the others in the room. There really _were_ quite a few of them and the mix of robe colors was a little surprising. Half the room wore Gryffindor colors and that did make sense, as Leoned had said it was during Quidditch practice and Leoned wore Gryffindor robes.

The others eyed him back with just as much curiosity, even as they shifted uncomfortably at the Headmaster's question.

"About the matter with the boy, Headmaster," Dumbledore explained patiently.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" the headmaster cried, smiling widely. His smile was white and blinding and with no missing teeth, which Harry absently thought was strange. Headmaster Dippet looked around the room at everyone. "Which one is it again?"

_This is the Headmaster_ , Harry thought. He blinked and did not respond as a knock came on the door. Dumbledore opened it and in walked Leoned, Vincent, and Tom.

"Harry!" Leoned said with apparent relief. He moved to the boy's side and looked him over. "Please don't vanish on me next time. I thought you'd somehow traveled back to your own time!"

"Obviously I didn't," Harry said sarcastically but he allowed the red head to keep a hold of his hand.

"I didn't expect there to be so many of you," the headmaster said, fairly put off.

"It was during our Quidditch practice, sir," Vincent explained.

"That only explains half the people standing in this room," Harry said unthinkingly, garnering many shocked expressions and a few amused ones – one of which was from Tom Riddle, himself.

"Well, no matter," Dippet clapped his hands. "There's a boy involved . . ."

"Harry Potter," Leoned said, pushing Harry forward to stand before the Headmaster.

"Well, Mister Potter, since it was Mister Black who discovered the time-turner on yourself and proceeded to share that information with everyone in the vicinity-"

"I said I was sorry!" a spiky haired teen cried from a corner. He was wearing Gryffindor colors and yet he was a Black.

_It appears Sirius wasn't the first Black to get sorted into Gryffindor after all_ , thought Harry humorlessly.

The headmaster leveled a stare at the teen. "As I was saying . . ." he trailed off uncertainly.

Leoned rubbed his forehead tiredly. "About the time-turner, sir."

"Oh, yes! We have come to the conclusion that you are, indeed, a time traveler!"

There was a collective groan and Harry was unable to contain the snort of laughter that erupted from his chest.

He smiled for the first time since waking and gazed directly at the headmaster as he spoke. "I believe that's the case, sir. It was completely accidental, as well, as my time-tuner was supposed to be deactivated and should not have been able to send me back at all."

"Oh, indeed!" Dippet cried worriedly. "Well, this will have to be reported to the Ministry, of course. But I'm sure they won't mind that you attend classes here, while they are attempting to find a way to send you home. How old are you child?"

"I was a day from turning seventeen," Harry replied. "I completed my sixth year."

"As I see it," the headmaster began and he was speaking so clearly and focused that the others were quite shocked, "you could either repeat sixth year or you could go on to seventh year. Then you wouldn't have to worry about completing your education. But it's up to you, of course."

"Perhaps he should be sorted first," Dumbledore suggested.

"Of course, of course!" the headmaster agreed. He moved to take the Sorting Hat from the shelf on which it sat. Harry was pushed to sit in one of the chairs in front of the headmaster's desk and allowed the hat to be placed upon his head.

" _What have we here . . ._ " the hat murmured in his head. " _A time traveler? Well, you don't see that everyday. Let's see what we can find. I see courage, plenty of it. Thirst for knowledge. Ambitions. Loyalty. It is always very difficult resorting students._ "

" _Why is that?_ " Harry wondered thoughtfully.

" _As a child you have yet to make decisions about the type of person you wish to become. What influences a child comes from their family but as they grow older the children start to make their own decisions and create their own opinions. Because out in the world, there are no Houses. There is no Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff. Some come to understand this while still in school, some don't until later in life._ "

" _But what does that have to do with me?_ "

" _It concerns you, Mister Potter. Because you would do well in any House, I dare say in all of them. There are many things you wish to do. Many things you wish to accomplish. Any of the Houses would help you. When you decide which path is the one you truly wish to take I might be able to sort you. Because at this moment, you are_ UN-SORTABLE."

" _What? You could have just let me pick a House!_ " Harry cried mentally before the hat was taken from his head.

"What's wrong with this thing?" Dippet cried and examined the hat carefully.

"What do we do then?" questioned Leoned, confused.

"Didn't this happen before?" Vincent asked. "With Reeve, right?"

"That's right," Dumbledore replied. "Mister Cruizov was unable to be sorted though the hat had not deemed him _un-sortable_. In the end, I believe Mister Cruizov simply chose a House."

"Well, then Harry can just choose a House, right?" Leoned wondered.

Harry, too, wondered that.

"I don't see why not," Dumbledore said. "Headmaster. Perhaps Mister Potter might simply choose a House to which to belong?"

The headmaster returned the hat to its resting place. "Right, right. That sounds like a good idea. You know about the Houses, of course?"

"I do," Harry admitted. "If you don't mind, Headmaster. I'd appreciate it if I could be put in Gryffindor with Leoned. I think I'd feel more comfortable if I could stay with him."

Leoned was rather startled by this proclamation but also very touched. He beamed appropriately and enthusiastically agreed, despite Vincent's expression of resentment.

"Wonderful," the headmaster said. "I'll contact the Ministry immediately. Meanwhile, Mister Potter . . . Harry Potter, that is, is an exchange student, a distant cousin of Vincent and Leoned Potter."

"Do you often get exchange students?" Harry asked suddenly.

"It happens during war time," Leoned explained. "Families move to be away from war."

_War_? Harry thought. _What war_?

"Please all treat him with respect and make him feel at home," the headmaster continued, as though he did not hear Harry's question or Leoned's answer. "I also should not have to tell you that this is of the utmost secrecy. Do not tell anyone of this-"

"With all due respect, Headmaster," Harry interrupted again. "You might trust your students to keep this all a secret but I do not. If it's not too much trouble, I would rather everyone make a vow or sign a magical contract."

"Paranoid, much?" Vincent muttered.

Harry turned to glare at him, shocking the older boy into silence. "Time travel isn't something to be taken lightly. It's not _your_ life you'd be messing with."

"Actually, a magical contract sounds like the best choice," a blonde haired boy standing by Tom Riddle said. He was pale with gray eyes, clearly a Malfoy. "That way no one dies if they accidentally let something slip."

There was time spent working up a contract until Harry was satisfied that it covered everything he could think of. When it was finally finished, the students all signed it. The only ones who did not were the Headmaster, Dumbledore, and Harry himself.

"Now that that's done," Dippet indicated Leoned, "I'll leave you to decide where _Harry_ will stay for now. At least until we can get a room cleared out for him. Best introduce yourselves now and then off you go."

Harry looked about in expectation, waiting for someone to start the introductions.

"Right, well," Vincent finally broke the awkward silence. "Romulus Lupin." Harry gazed at the tall brunette in curiosity. There was a resemblance to Remus Lupin in his face but that's where the similarities ended. It was obvious that Romulus Lupin came from a well-off family, by the state of his clothes – high quality – and the way he held himself with his nose in the air. He was like a Gryffindor version of Draco Malfoy. How disturbing.

"Standing by him is Runako Black." That was the spiky haired boy who had revealed his secret, Harry realized. He was still lurking in the corner, his face set in a pout even as he gave a little wave. Harry could not recall seeing his name on the Black family tapestry. Maybe he was one of those blasted off or even from a different branch of the Black family?

"Arnold Weasley." Yet again, Harry was surprised. Arnold Weasley was also obviously well-off, his clothes were neat and pristine in appearance. He carried himself with a confident air but his nose was not in the air as Romulus Lupin's, which was good as Harry did not wish to deal with two Gryffindorish Draco Malfoys.

"Right, before he continues introducing everyone in that monotone voice of his, I'm going to introduce myself," the blonde haired boy interrupted. "Rudo Malfoy, at your service."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said, amused.

Rudo smiled brilliantly at him and turned to point at Tom. "You've probably already met this one. Tom Riddle."

"We've met," Harry agreed. He gazed at the Slytherin Prefect in wonder and the boy returned his gaze.

"Over there by the window are our two resident Love Birds," Rudo continued, easily ignoring the tension that arose between Harry and Tom. "Rodolphus Lestrange and Erian Lang."

Harry took the time to take a closer look at "Rodolphus Lestrange", who was evidently not the same Rodolphus Lestrange as the one who had tortured Neville Longbottom's parents. Unless it was somehow possible for a vampire to become human again, which Harry knew it was not. The Rodolphus Lestrange that stood there was, in point of fact, a vampire. It was not easy to tell just by looking at him, as he had clear blue eyes and not overly pale skin.

Harry didn't know how he could tell, but after meeting Sanguini at Slughorn's party he had become more aware of others. There was something different about how Sanguini _felt_ compared to the others at the party. The same as Rodolphus felt.

Erian Lang was a beautiful boy with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. There was a peaceful air around him even as he leaned against the vampire, not the least bit afraid.

_Love Birds_ , Rudo had called them. If Harry remembered correctly, vampires were much like werewolves in one aspect. Mates. A vampire only fell in love once in their lifetime.

"This lovely lady over here is Raven Lang," Rudo said. Raven was the only female and single Ravenclaw present in the room, yet her presence was overpowering. She stood firm and tall by Erian and from the fact that they both had the same last names, Harry guessed they were somehow related. Yet Raven had long dark hair and dark, dark eyes and she was fair skinned. She was quite lovely, in fact. She also did not resemble Erian in the slightest.

"Professor," Erian spoke suddenly, his voice soft and sweet as honey. Harry found himself blinking at him in shock. If not for the Hufflepuff uniform and no one thinking there was anything odd, Harry would have been suspicious as to the tone of voice the boy was using. But apparently it was simply his normal voice. "If you don't mind me asking . . . Mister Harry," _and boy didn't that remind Harry of Luna Lovegood all of a sudden_ , "what classes will he be taking?"

"I think the Headmaster has reached his limit for the day," Dumbledore said, indicating where the headmaster was dozing in his chair, clearly too tired to be of much help. "But I have an idea. Mister Potter will need help catching up in classes. For the moment, at least, it would be prudent to have one of you help him in each of his classes. Why don't you decide amongst yourselves who will help him with what class?"

"That sounds fine," Harry shrugged. Truthfully, he did not care much for anything at the moment. He was tired, hungry, and overwhelmed. But mostly hungry. "But I'm a little hungry."

"Well it's almost lunch time, so why not head to the Great Hall and get something to eat?" Leoned asked.

The others agreed and Harry didn't argue. They left Dumbledore and the headmaster behind and walked down to the Great Hall.

Harry restrained himself from turning around as he walked in between Leoned and Romulus. Someone was staring at him and he didn't have to guess to know who it was, for there was a familiar tingle spreading across his scar. It couldn't be anyone other than Tom Riddle.


	2. Out of Focus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My table is a little weird.

Harry found that trying to divide his attention between eating, answering questions, and observing the students in the Great Hall, was actually rather exhausting. Leoned and Vincent, who sat on either side of him, fended off unwanted attention from other students who wanted to know about the new "exchange student".

"I asked Erian to make a schedule for you," Leoned said. "Are you quite sure you don't mind being in those classes? The ones you said you'd never taken?"

"I don't," Harry replied. He tried to smile at the red head reassuringly and it must have worked as Leoned beamed at him. "Anyway, it'll be fun. New experience and all that."

"It'll be fun until you realize you've committed yourself to being tutored by Raven," Vincent snorted.

"What's wrong with Raven?" Harry asked, worried.

"She's a slave driver!" Runako exclaimed.

Harry was surprised that several other students agreed with the comment. Admittedly, the girl in question did seem fairly strict and intense and . . . did he mention intense? He remembered the intensity of her gaze as Rudo Malfoy had introduced them and the way she had stood straight and silent like a statue.

"Do you play Quidditch?" Runako asked, breaking through Harry's thoughts.

"Seeker," Harry responded automatically. It took a moment for him to realize they weren't talking about Raven anymore and his mind fought to catch up with the conversation.

"Maybe you'd like to try out for the position on the team?" Runako continued.

"Right now I'd just like to get back home," Harry said eventually, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "If it turns out I can't or that it might take a while, then perhaps I will. But even so, I'd probably have a lot of work to catch up on."

"You'll have all of us to help you," Leoned pointed out. "Erian will pair you up with someone good at that particular class, so no worry. I'm quite good at Charms, if I do say so myself."

"You're quite good at being charming, you should say," Vincent quipped.

Harry suddenly felt very uncomfortable as Leoned and Vincent turned to look at each other; the red head blushed and laughed twinkly while Vincent smiled dashingly. Across from them, Romulus and Runako were rolling their eyes.

He was quite thankful when Erian suddenly appeared and pushed Vincent aside to make room for himself beside Harry. They both ignored the indignant expression on Vincent's face and his grumbling as Erian placed a parchment on the table.

Harry was admittedly impressed as he looked over the schedule the boy had created for him. There were notes on the side pointing out who could help him with what and which classes with the fifth years—Transfiguration and Herbology—wouldn't clash with any of the sixth year classes Harry had chosen. The only exception was Defense Against the Dark Arts, which Harry would be taking with the seventh years.

**Monday**

| 

**Tuesday**

| 

**Wednesday**

| 

**Thursday**

| 

**Friday**  
  
---|---|---|---|---  
  
Ancient Runes 

| 

Charms 

| 

Arithmancy 

| 

Charms 

| 

Arithmancy   
  
Divination 

| 

Transfiguration 

| 

Transfiguration 

| 

Divination 

| 

Ancient Runes   
  
Defense Against the Dark Arts 

| 

Care of Magical Creatures 

| 

Care of Magical Creatures

| 

Transfiguration

| 

Defense Against the Dark Arts  
  
Potions 

| 

Herbology 

| 

Herbology 

| 

Potions 

| 

Transfiguration   
  
"So far everyone but Tom has agreed to help you in a class," Erian said. Harry was surprised by the ease in which he said the Slytherin's name, perhaps the Hufflepuff was given such allowances due to his relationship with the vampire? "Tom wants you to ask him yourself."

It took a moment for Harry to digest that and he looked incredulously at the Slytherin from across the Great Hall. "Are you joking?"

"Um, no," Erian enunciated slowly.

"I thought I was having Potions with the sixth years," Harry argued.

"You are, Tom is in sixth year Potions class. So next year will be his last year taking Potions and for his final year he plans to apprenticeship with Professor Slughorn," Erian explained.

"Huh, really?" Vincent wondered. "I thought it was because he's obviously Slughorn's _favorite_."

"That might be the reason Professor Slughorn _accepted_ ," Leoned indicated. "He's never taken on an apprentice before, you know."

"That's neither here nor there," Erian interrupted, annoyed. "The fact is that Tom wants Harry to ask him personally. He's very persnickety and he has a big head, but he's the best at Potions so he'll get you caught up."

 _Persnickety_ , Harry thought with some humor, _that's putting it_ mildly.

"I suppose I should ask, then," he said glumly.

"Aside from that, though, we also have to worry about everything else you'll need," Leoned said, ticking off on his fingers. "Clothes, a wand, school supplies, to name a few."

"You think I'll be here long enough to need so many things?"

"It's rather useless waiting for the Ministry to do something about your situation, seeing how getting them off their collective asses is a chore and a half," Vincent said.

"That's comforting." Harry gathered his courage, snatched up his schedule, and stood. He frowned as he swayed slightly and took a moment to surreptitiously find his balance before slowly walking across the hall towards the Slytherin table. He ignored the looks he received from the students he passed by but felt the weight of their stares all the same.

He hesitated briefly a few feet away from the Slytherin table, unsure of whether he should sit or just hover insistently over Tom Riddle's shoulder. Rudo, who sat in front of Tom, saw him and grinned, sliding down to make room for him without the slightest hesitance.

"Why, hello there, Mister Potter," said the blonde cheekily. "You don't mind if I call you Harry, do you? 'Mister Potter' will get confusing."

"I don't mind," Harry murmured.

"What brings you to our side? Sick of them already?"

Tom was staring at him, Harry noticed and smiled self-consciously. The conversation at the table slowly died and several Slytherins began sizing him up, making him feel slightly out of place and quite paranoid. Rudo noticed that the attention was making him uncomfortable and took one long, slow look around, his gray eyes steely and his smile wide and shark-like. The Slytherins quickly returned to their previous conversations, many turning away with vaguely horrified expressions on their faces.

"Ignore them, you came from the Gryffindor table yet you do not wear the Gryffindor colors, so they're suspicious of you already," Rudo explained and then added, thoughtfully, "I wonder how it'll be once you start sporting red and gold . . ."

Harry snorted, amused, "Are you trying to make me feel guilty for choosing Gryffindor?"

"I would never!" Rudo said and he wiggled his eyebrows outrageously.

Harry was surprised to find himself trying to contain his laughter, it was shocking how charmingly devious Rudo Malfoy was.

"Erian was kind enough to make me a schedule," Harry explained, shaking his head. Tom, looking both bored with the byplay and annoyed at being ignored, gazed at him expectantly, "and I am supposedly to ask for help in Potions."

Rudo arched an eyebrow, glancing over at Tom and then back at Harry with a wide smile. "That's not a problem at all. Tom, here, can help you. I'm afraid he's the best we have at the moment, so he'll just have to do." Then, he leaned over and whispered loudly in exaggeration. "He's not really a people person."

"Thank you, you are most kind," Tom droned sarcastically. He did not argue with the blonde's statement, however, and held out a hand towards Harry, who gazed at him quizzically. "I'd like a look at your schedule." They stared at each other minutely before Harry handed the parchment over. The Prefect looked over the schedule with a critical eye, silently mouthing the notes Erian had scribbled on the sides. Then, finally, he scoffed and held the parchment out between thumb and forefinger. "Have you looked at this?"

"You know, actually, I _have_ ," Harry said slowly, he raised his eyebrows and did not take the schedule back. "What's wrong with it?"

"You have a full schedule," Tom pointed out condescendingly. "There's no free period."

"I did notice, what's wrong with _that_?" Harry asked with a sigh. If he didn't know better he'd think the Slytherin was _worried_ , but they'd only met that day, and more importantly, it was _Tom Riddle_ and Harry could not imagine Tom Riddle caring about anyone but himself.

Tom eyed him speculatively, he let the parchment slip from his fingers onto the table in front of Harry, and returned his attention to the tome he'd been reading.

Harry propped his chin on his hand and leaned against the table as he regarded the Slytherin for a minute before turning confused eyes on Rudo. "Have I been dismissed?"

"I did warn you; he's not much of a people person," Rudo shrugged. "But stick around, better than going back to the _other side_."

"Of the room?" Harry wondered, vaguely amused. "That's all right, I think your _friends_ don't want me here."

"Mister Potter?"

Harry was startled at being addressed all of a sudden and turned his head to look up at Albus Dumbledore, who smiled benignly down at him. Most of Slytherin table quieted once again as the students turned to look at the Transfiguration professor with suspicious eyes.

"Is there something I can do for you, sir?"

"Merely wondering why you are not with your . . . _cousins_ at the Gryffindor table," the man replied.

"Well, I was merely asking Mister Riddle here if he would be so kind as to help me catch up in Potions," Harry explained pleasantly.

Rudo snorted while Tom's lips quirked at being addressed as "Mister Riddle".

"I see," Dumbledore murmured, looking between the three of them. "Perhaps it would be better if you asked someone else? I'm sure Mister Riddle is quite busy with his own school work."

"Pardon me, professor," Tom began, a pleasantly confused expression on his face that was more fake than Harry's Aunt Petunia. "But I am ahead of everyone in _any_ class and am the best choice to help _Mister_ Potter adjust to the curriculum. Perhaps it is everyone else who is too busy to help him with his classes?"

There was a hard and suspicious light in Dumbledore's eyes that Harry had never before seen, or if he had then he was only just recognizing it for what it was.

He quickly decided to intervene before things escalated, "It's all right, professor. _Mister_ Riddle has already agreed to help me most graciously. I was just about to return to my cousins anyway. Thank you, _Mister_ Riddle. Mister Malfoy."

"You're quite welcome!" Rudo said brightly. "Come back soon, yes?"

With his schedule in hand, Harry returned across the hall to the Gryffindor table.

 _That was mildly disturbing_ , Harry thought. He'd never imagined he would find himself having a pleasant conversation with Tom Riddle, of all people.

He was hard pressed not to roll his eyes as he passed by several Gryffindor students who glared at him suspiciously.

"What did Professor Dumbledore want?" Leoned asked once Harry was seated beside again.

"I think he wanted to warn me away from the Slytherins," Harry answered truthfully.

"Maybe you should listen to him," Vincent advised and then cleared his throat awkwardly when Erian, who had stayed behind to chat with Leoned, turned to glare at him.

"Don't listen to them," Erian suggested momentarily. "Slytherins are quite lovely in their own way."

Harry blinked at him, "Right."

"Did he agree?" the Hufflepuff asked then. "Otherwise we'll have to see about-"

"He did, he agreed," Harry interrupted as he could see the boy was working himself up into a tizzy.

"Oh, good, I'm glad," Erian breathed a sigh of relief and giggled nervously when the group turned to stare at him in disbelief. "I didn't think he would."

Leoned shook his head and took the schedule from Harry, with a wave of his wand he made another copy. "I'm going to take this to the headmaster and make a list of things you'll need. I'm also going to talk to the teachers some more to learn, specifically, what you need to do to catch up. For the fifth year classes, especially, you probably already know all the course work. Seeing how it's Sunday, you don't have to worry about classes until tomorrow."

Harry was nodding along, not really following anything that the red head was saying. His mind felt heavy and he really just wanted to lay down and go to sleep. Leoned took one look at him and seemed to realize that he wasn't paying attention.

"You seem very tired, so for the moment, why don't you take a nap in our room?" He didn't even have to indicate who "our" included as Harry immediately knew he spoke of Vincent. "After I've done all those things I said I was going to do, we can probably make a visit to Hogsmeade to buy what you need. Or perhaps Diagon Alley if it's early enough . . ." Then he started muttering to himself. "Maybe by the time we return the headmaster or one of the professors will have figured out where you'll be staying. We've already decided that you can't stay in the dorms . . ."

Once students began leaving the Great Hall, Leoned pushed himself to his feet and indicated for Harry to follow him. Vincent took after them not a moment later, bypassed Harry with a single look, and began hissing to Leoned in what he appeared to think was a quiet manner. In actuality, Harry could hear everything he was saying to the red head but tried to appear dumb when Vincent threw looks back at him.

Vincent was complaining that Leoned was letting Harry into "their" room and allowing him to sleep on "their" bed. Harry was confused as to why Vincent disliked him so much. They'd barely had a full conversation but the older boy seemed determined to hate him. It was disconcerting to say the least.

Eventually Vincent stopped grumbling and followed sedately behind them as Leoned led the way. Harry decided that the best course of action to take was to just ignore him. So far as he knew, he wasn't doing anything wrong. Clearly Vincent Potter saw something in him that Harry could not . . . or perhaps he expected to see something that simply wasn't there.

The rooms that Leoned led him to were on the sixth floor and right below Gryffindor Tower. If not for the sleeping lion statue that guarded the entrance, Harry wouldn't have thought there to be anything special about it.

"This is Leander," Leoned introduced. The lion remained unmoving on its pedestal. "The password, in case you ever need to get in, is _lionhearted_." The lion immediately sprang to life, shaking his whole body and jumping to the side. The pedestal then divided in two, with one side going left and the other right. The wall behind the statue opened until there was door-less entrance.

"Lionhearted, how fitting," said Harry absently. He followed Leoned into the room, only to find himself in what appeared to be a parlor or a foyer. Everything was in Gryffindor colors of red and gold; from the carpet, to the curtains, and even the furniture. There were two long sofas perpendicular to a roaring fireplace with a single armchair to one side. The room was very cozy and welcoming, with a single door on the right that led into the bedroom. "Err, if you don't mind, could I just sleep on the sofa?"

Leoned threw him an unreadable look but agreed. "I'll get you a pillow and a blanket."

Harry shuffled his feet awkwardly as he was left alone with Vincent, who looked everywhere in the room except for in his direction. They were both relieved when Leoned finally returned with the items he'd procured. Harry gratefully took the pillow and blanket and made himself comfortable upon one of sofas. Even stretched to his full height, Harry did not reach the end of the sofa he decided on.

He closed his eyes and felt Leoned running his fingers through his hair. "We'll have to tame this mop of yours sometime, it's quite disgraceful. Though if it's anything like Vincent's I'll have a battle on my hands."

"Why do you and Vincent have a separate room?" Harry wondered sleepily.

"Because Vincent's Head Boy, of course," Leoned replied, as though that explained everything. He gently tucked the blanket around Harry and ran his fingers through the boy's hair one more time. "I'll wake you when I come back."

Distantly, Harry heard stone rumbling as the entrance closed and then a silence permeated the room but for the occasional crackling of the fireplace. A peacefulness settled over him as he relaxed, the heat of the fire and the sun shining through the open window making him all the more sleepy.

It seemed like he'd only been dozing for a few minutes when suddenly someone was shaking him awake. He groaned and attempted to push the insistent hands away but they were very persistent. He slowly became aware of a throbbing pain in his head.

"No, don't touch it," Leoned said, grabbing his hand before he could reach up to ease the ache. "You don't want that to get infected."

"What?" he wondered groggily.

"The cut on your forehead, it's bleeding," Leoned explained calmly, easily pulling a languorous Harry into a seating position. "Here, just sit and let me clean it, all right?"

"All right," Harry said agreeably, still confused. He absently noticed that Vincent was sitting in the armchair, gazing at him consideringly though Harry couldn't fathom why.

"Does this cut bleed often?" Leoned asked.

"Err, no," Harry answered eventually.

"How did you get it?"

"I . . . don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, all right . . ." the red head frowned thoughtfully, continuing his methodical cleaning of Harry's scar. "I won't pry-"

"It looks like a curse scar," Vincent interrupted thoughtlessly.

"He said he doesn't want to talk about it, we should respect his decision," Leoned growled menacingly.

Vincent paled immediately and hunkered down in his armchair, looking around the room fleetingly. From time to time he would lock eyes with Harry and glare at him remorsefully. Harry returned his looks with a blank one of his own, which only looked to make Vincent all the more resentful.

"There, that's done," Leoned proclaimed. He set aside his tools and with a flick of his wand he lifted all the bloodied cloths and tossed them into the fireplace; the flames crackled at the intrusion. "I've spoken to all of your teachers and they've come up with a plan. This week, when you attend their classes, they'll each give you a test to see how far along on the curriculum you are."

"That sounds fair," Harry commented, uncaring.

"I thought so, too. So after we've ascertained how far behind you are, we'll see about getting you caught up," Leoned smiled, happy with himself. "I spoke to Professor Dumbledore, he took it upon himself to contact the Ministry and they _said_ they'd be sending someone to speak with you as soon as possible. But that could mean anywhere from a day to a year to . . . never, actually. Enough about that, it's only a little after four, so we still have enough time to floo to Diagon Alley today. Do you think you're up to a trip?"

Harry blinked at him slowly and nodded. "That's fine."

Leoned gazed at him in concern and Harry smiled at him reassuringly.

"We'll be flooing from the Headmaster's office, have you flooed before?" Leoned asked.

"Yes, I've never been very good at it, though," Harry admitted. "The first time I ended up flooing to Knockturn Alley; it was quite frightening."

"I'd imagine so," the red head muttered, worried.

"Don't worry," Harry reassured, catching sight of his expression. "I'm much better at it now."

Leoned was not reassured but smiled at the shorter boy nonetheless. He noticed that Harry continuously threw Vincent, who was following them, curious and confused looks.

"Vincent's coming with us. If you don't mind, of course," Leoned explained.

"I don't mind," Harry said.

Leoned was worried that Harry appeared fine with . . . well, absolutely everything, it seemed. But he didn't know the boy well enough to be certain that it wasn't simply the way he was.

"I have a vague list of what you'll need. Do you want to start with that or should we get you some clothes first?"

"We should get his school things before shopping for clothes," Vincent muttered. "Otherwise we'll spend all day shopping for clothes and won't have time for anything else."

"I'm not that bad," Leoned murmured petulantly. He avoided the knowing look Vincent was throwing at him and smiled at Harry's curious look. "You probably want to get your wand first, right?"

"Actually, I do," Harry agreed readily. "I feel a little naked without it."

That startled a laugh out of Leoned and even Vincent sputtered at the boy's response. Harry looked adorably confused at their reactions and allowed Leoned to hold his hand as though he were a child. They received many strange looks from students they passed along the way, a few of the female students giggled and huddled close to whisper to each other. Their eyes full of curiosity as they gazed at Harry, who managed to return their looks uninterestedly.

The Headmaster wasn't in his office when they arrived and Leoned decided to leave a note, just in case the man forgot there were three students paying a visit to Diagon Alley.

Vincent was the first to pass through the floo, Harry would follow after him, with Leoned bringing up the rear.

"How am I going to pay for everything?" Harry wondered absentmindedly. "I don't have any money."

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Leoned replied cheerfully. "I'm paying for everything."

Abstractedly, Harry wondered if he should protest. He decided that it would take too much effort, though, and Leoned had proved most stubborn already. Once he'd decided that it would be too much trouble, he took the offered floo powder, and with a shout of "Diagon Alley!" he was spinning and out he popped into the Leaky Cauldron, right into Vincent's arms.

Vincent grunted and steadied himself, he was also kind enough to help Harry stand on his own two feet.

"Thank you," Harry said after a moment, thinking it would be rude otherwise. He awkwardly pulled at the cardigan Leoned had lent him and looked about the pub curiously. He was dimly aware of Vincent's watchful gaze resting on him but ignored it and was unaware of Leoned having come through until the red head was shaking him by the shoulder.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm just tired," Harry replied honestly.

"Let's get this done quick, then, so you can rest. You don't want to be tired tomorrow."

With nary a word to anyone in the pub, they headed to the entrance of Diagon Alley. Leoned easily tapped the correct sequence of bricks as Vincent stood to the side, pouting after his own failed attempt. Harry had declined when they had asked him if he wanted to try, half because he just didn't want to bother and also because he could never recall the correct sequence for the life of him.

"I'm assuming you originally got your wand at Ollivander's?" Leoned asked.

"That's right, it should exist in this time," Harry replied.

"Pretty old wand," Vincent commented. "It waited a long time for you, didn't it?"

Harry regarded him thoughtfully, shrugging uncomfortably when they both looked to be waiting for a response. They continued down the cobbled street towards Ollivander's, pausing only for a short instant as Vincent and Leoned took the time to reminiscence about the first time they bought their own wands. Harry nodded along at the right moments and remained silent.

The inside of Ollivander's shop was still the same dusty, cramped place Harry recalled from his first time visiting Diagon Alley. There was no one tending the cash register though the sound of someone humming echoed around the room from the general direction of the back.

"This must be Harry Potter," Ollivander spoke from his place atop a ladder. They could only see his head from where it peaked over the top of the shelves.

"Were you informed we were coming?" Leoned asked.

The man looked thoughtful, nodding slowly, "I was." He was slow in climbing down the ladder. He was, also, quite old from what Harry could tell. It wasn't the same Ollivander that had sold him his own wand. It was quite possible that he was the father of the Ollivander that Harry had met. "Can you remember your wand?"

"Holly, phoenix feather, eleven inches," Harry told him instantly.

Ollivander paused to give Harry a good long look from head to toe as though sizing him up. "Is that so?" He beckoned Harry forward. Harry exchanged a brief look with Leoned, who gestured for him to go on ahead, before going to the old wizard's side. "If that is indeed your wand, you will be able to feel it calling to you as you walk among the shelves. Go on, give it a try."

Dubiously, Harry did as he was told. He didn't think he'd ever find his wand, feeling as tired as he did, and he spent a good minute confused as to how to proceed. Should he start from the back and work his way forward? Or maybe he should start from the front and work his way back? Did it really matter?

"Harry?"

Harry was startled out of his thoughts and turned to look at Leoned questioningly. The red head was gazing at him in concern again and Harry realized he'd been standing there staring at the wand boxes for some time already.

"Sorry, guess I'm more tired than I thought," Harry said, smiling deprecatingly. He began without further ado, trying to appear as though he was concentrating on the task at hand, when in actuality he couldn't even find the focus to watch where he was going. He stumbled several times around boxes piled on the floor and wondered if he'd 'searched' long enough to give up.

That was when he felt it. Like a loose string suddenly going taut. He followed the pulling until he was standing in front of another shelf, looking up at the box that held his wand. He reached up with his hands and stood on tiptoes but could not reach it. He jumped once and decided that was too much work. Throwing a glance around he noticed a stool nearby and quickly grabbed it.

He was completely unaware of his audience. Leoned, Vincent, and Ollivander all stood peaking around one of the shelves.

Leoned cringed when the stool wobbled dangerously underneath Harry, though the boy himself appeared not to notice, all but climbing on the shelf to grab one of the boxes. They all breathed a sigh of relief once Harry was back on solid ground, triumphantly holding the wand box in his hands.

To Harry, finally opening the box and having his wand in his hand was like the world suddenly shifting and coming into focus.

Ollivander cautiously approached him, when Harry continued to stand there with his head bowed.

He was quite startled when the boy turned to gaze at him with bright, lucid eyes. "This is my wand."

"So it is," Ollivander said agreeably. "Make sure to keep it with you at all times, at least until you get your problem fixed."

"Why wouldn't I keep it with me?" Harry asked, confused.

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps you might leave it behind by accident. Anyway, at least until you get yourself looked over."

Harry blinked at him, brows furrowed as he frowned. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Why would you think there's something wrong with you?" Ollivander wondered curiously. "It helps you focus though, doesn't it? Your wand. Your mind is suddenly clear."

"Yes, actually," Harry admitted. He hadn't even been aware that he wasn't thinking clearly until the wand maker pointed it out.

"Harry, are you ready to go?" Leoned asked.

"Don't worry about the fee, Misters Potter," Ollivander said, smiling genuinely down at Harry. "The wand belongs only with Harry, here, so it's free of charge."

"That's very kind of you, thank you, sir," Vincent said.

Ollivander waved the thanks away and drew Harry aside again, pulling him behind the cash register and drawing out a wand holster. "Here we go, take this, too. Remember what I said, keep your wand with you."

"Yes," Harry said.

Once outside again, the three paused to recollect themselves and Harry made sure the wand holster was firmly around his wand arm before placing his wand in it. Vincent and Leoned made brief plans to meet up again, with Vincent taking the required books list before heading off down the road.

"He'll buy your books while we go to Madam Malkin's," Leoned explained at his baffled look.

They spent nearly an hour browsing the racks at Madam Malkin's, looking for clothes Harry found suitable. Though the shop didn't carry an abundance of Muggle clothing, what they had was at least up to date with the current Muggle trends . . which wasn't really saying much, in Harry's opinion. There were loose trousers that Harry felt swallowed up in, jackets that hung off his frame as though he were a scarecrow, dress shirts that were equally large, and vests that made him feel like an idiot.

Apparently, all Muggle men, including the boys, wore suits everywhere. That, and also awful jumpers with atrocious patterns that reminded Harry of his Uncle Vernon.

"I just want some _jeans_ ," Harry grumbled to himself.

"What are jeans?" Leoned asked.

Madam Malkin's assistant, a young woman who stood to the aside waiting to offer them assistance, immediately answered. "I've heard of _jeans_! But only _cowboys_ wear those things, why would you want those?"

Harry stared at her uncomprehendingly.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, "I'm afraid that's all we have available aside from robes. You can try down the road at The Junction, they have the latest Wizarding fashion."

"Uh, no," Leoned immediately denied as Harry appeared curious. "You don't want the latest Wizarding fashion, Harry. We're better off buying multiple uniform pants and shirts and altering them later."

So that was what they did in the end. Harry left feeling rather pleased, in fact, with his black pants and dark, gray sweaters. Even with his shiny, black shoes and embarrassingly enough, his new undergarments, too. They spent the last hour before the shops closed wandering around the alley. Stopping briefly at the bookstore to look for Vincent, who had gotten distracted in the Quidditch section, only to get distracted themselves in the same section.

Evidently, all three of them had one thing in common: Quidditch!

They spent an inordinate amount of time looking at trunks and trying to decide which one was the best to get for Harry. In the end, Leoned finally decided on one that reminded Harry of Professor Moody's own. In its closed form, it resembled the ones students took to Hogwarts, so it didn't stand out in any way.

They bought three self-refilling quills; one for each of them. Stopped at the Quidditch store to exclaim over the brooms, which Harry wasn't overly impressed with. Then ended the day with some ice cream sundaes from the new store that had opened that year, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Florean Forstecue, who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, was a welcome sight for Harry, who recalled hours spent doing his homework at one of the tables of the man's shop. The man would provide him with free sundaes every half hour and Harry had never eaten so much ice cream as he had during those two weeks he had stayed at the Leaky Cauldron.

They arrived back at Hogwarts after dinner, only to be told by Dumbledore that Leoned's presence was required in the Hospital Wing as Runako Black had suffered a panic attack that day when a stray Kneazle had crossed his path. They learned that the Kneazle was part of a group obtained by Professor Silvanus Kettleburn for the next Care of Magical Creatures class.

Why one of them would cause Runako to have a panic attack, Harry did not know. But both Vincent and Leoned paled and beat a hasty retreat, the red head promising to see Harry later.

"I see you bought many things," Dumbledore observed once they were alone in the Headmaster's office. "Are you sure you will get to use them?"

"I suppose we'll see," Harry shrugged.

"Before I forget, a room has been cleaned out for you to use. It is on the third floor, hidden behind the statue of Godric Gryffindor."

"There's a statue of Godric Gryffindor?" Harry demanded, surprised.

"Indeed, there is!" Dumbledore exclaimed, pleased with himself. "Now, the _room_ was enchanted by Gryffindor himself. It can only be used by someone inherently Gryffindor in personality, which is fair enough considering. They are said to have been Gryffindor's own rooms when he lived at the castle. There are three separate rooms: the baths, which are large and luxurious, there's the bedroom, and the entrance." Harry perceived that Dumbledore found these rooms more than adequate.

"Excuse me, professor, if you like these rooms so much, why aren't they yours?"

"Well, that's the catch, the rooms are so imbued with magic that they almost have a mind of their own. The ceiling of the entrance, which is more of a parlor, is actually enchanted much like ceiling in the Great Hall. The walls are also lined with bookshelves and the books were owned by Gryffindor himself. But the room has a habit of finding everyone unworthy of settling there, so it will rain down books on people it considers interlopers."

"Yet you want me to stay in those rooms, what if I get pelted with books?"

"Well, if that happens we'll have to see about finding another room, of course."

Suddenly, Harry understood and he felt extremely annoyed. Dumbledore was testing him. Or more to the point, Dumbledore was using these rooms to prove to himself that Harry was unworthy. Of what, Harry could not begin to guess. He didn't know, nor did he wish to know, how the man's mind worked. He wondered if the man used the rooms to test others, as well. Perhaps he found some sort of sick amusement from watching innocent people get pelted by books.

But Dumbledore was smiling at him genially and his eyes were twinkling madly with excitement. He seemed to realize that Harry was dubious, as he comforted him, "Don't worry. I'll be right there with you. But these rooms are the best ones in the entire castle and it's such a shame that no one has been able to use them. We must at least see if they will find you likeable, right?"

 _Well_ , Harry thought to himself. _There are worse ways to die than being pelted by books_.


	3. As Time Sleeps Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # First of all, sorry for the delay with the chapter. I'm back to work after a family emergency and there's a lot of stuff to catch up on, so I've been going to sleep at like 3AM every day and it's killing me.
> 
> # Second of all, the chapter title is not a typo! C:
> 
> # Third of all, I explained SOME things about this chapter in the end note. So if you have questions look there first and if the answer is not there, ask away.
> 
> # Finally, I have a problem with describing rooms too much. Someone stop me! /dies

Harry only partially listened to Dumbledore, who chatted amiably and endlessly about nothing of real importance. The man pointed out portraits, tapestries, and statues by name and recited their history from memory. Harry was suitably impressed the few times he actually tried to pay attention but ultimately the man sounded like a teacher, droning and boring.

They climbed the Grand Staircase to the third floor and Harry gazed about wonderingly, trying to remember the way as Dumbledore led him through many corridors. They came to a stop before a statue at the end of a hallway; tall, imposing, with a shield strapped to his back and holding a sword before him, point down. Godric Gryffindor resembled a lion, Harry noted, with a wild mane of hair and a long beard.

"Gryffindor," said Dumbledore.

To Harry's wonder, the statue remained unmoving but the wall behind it broke apart like a jigsaw puzzle to form an entrance. He followed after Dumbledore as the man cautiously entered the room, looking around with wide eyes full of curiosity.

The first room was a foyer, with two arched staircases with decorative railings on either side of the room, leading up to a balcony area where the walls were lined with bookshelves. A large chandelier hung above him, small crystallized beads hanging from it that sparkled with the light from the candles.

That was just the foyer, the parlor was equally as grand. Not half as much as the grand piano that was situated at the far end of the room, in a bay window area between even more bookcases.

Harry wouldn't have imagined Godric Gryffindor as the type to have so many books. Or a piano.

"Professor, there's a piano," Harry said, confused and overwhelmed.

"Ah, yes, the piano is this room's most recent acquisition," Dumbledore explained. "The last person to be able to use these rooms was said to have been a great pianist. That was long before my time. He left his piano here so Hogwarts would always hold a piece of him."

Harry walked to the piano, surprised to notice the distinct lack of dust as he ran his fingers along the edges. The lid was propped open and he peaked inside, never before had he seen a piano up close. In a movie once or twice and in magazines or perhaps in shop windows, Harry couldn't recall where. But the one he'd seen had been black, while the one before him was brown with a glossy look to it.

He pushed at some of the keys and listened to the noise they made; it sounded terribly loud with the lid propped open, but he figured that was probably the point. He noticed that there was a stack of books atop the stool and picked up the one on top. It was a book on learning to play the piano.

His curiosity peaked, he flipped through the book. Perhaps when he had the time he could learn to play the piano, wouldn't that be something? He snorted to himself and moved to place the book back on the pile, shocked to notice that there was no longer just one pile of books but several.

"The room appears to like you," Dumbledore noted with a pleased nod. He was examining a mantelpiece clock that rested atop the fireplace.

From where he still stood by the piano, Harry could see that the clock was as elaborate and beautiful as its surroundings. The white marble fireplace itself was not very big, certainly not to be used for flooing, but it was still quite magnificent. The fireplace mantel was decorated with lions that appeared ready to jump from the stone. The wall above the fireplace was empty but it was clear from the faded markings that a portrait had once hung there.

The fireplace, too, was surrounded by bookcases on either side. There was a coffee table in front, surrounded by a sofa and two armchairs. There were also several other armchairs settled around another table; that one round and further from the fireplace, around the center of the room.

While Dumbledore continued to explore the bookcases, Harry wandered over to a large medieval door opposite the fireplace. It opened easily to him and he found himself in the bedroom. There was a canopy bed settled in against the far wall with a variety of differently sized pillows. Golden curtains fell from a round canopy attached to the ceiling and surrounded the bed at the corners.

Harry was amazed by the size of the bed, having never slept in anything so big before. There was also a desk to the left side of the room, by a curtained window, and an armoire to the right.

Upon opening the armoire, Harry found a large shield; pointed at the bottom but arched at the top. It was emblazoned with the Gryffindor lion and rather heavy, too.

"So that is where the Shield of Gryffindor vanished to," said Dumbledore, startling Harry as he appeared suddenly over his shoulder. "I imagine the room would be displeased if I were to take it. Godric Gryffindor was said to have been as strong as a lion, himself, and there were not many who could lift his shield as easily as he. It is also impervious to magic, so one cannot simply cast a feather-light charm on it . . . Now, there's a bathroom around here somewhere, as well. Gryffindor was said to have hidden the entrance to his private bath as it was the envy of many staff members. More magnificent than the Prefect baths."

Harry felt faint all of a sudden and took a moment to steady himself. He grasped his wand in its holster and focused on the connection he felt to it until the world slowly shifted back into focus.

"Mister Potter?" Dumbledore asked, worried. He peered closely at Harry's face with a concerned frown. "You look a little pale. Here, sit down for a moment."

Harry allowed himself to be steered out of the bedroom and to the sofa. He sat with his head thrown back and gazed at the ceiling. He was amazed when what appeared to be a normal ceiling shifted and then there was a sky and clouds that transformed into unicorns, butterflies, and other things, and also brought a smile to his face.

As he focused on the shapes of the clouds, it was almost like he was laying outside somewhere, gazing up at the sky. He could feel the breeze blowing and smell the flowers; the violets and gardenias he had planted in his Aunt Petunia's garden one summer, along with the scent of freshly mowed grass.

"Smells like violets," Dumbledore noted, sniffing the air and smiling pleasantly. "Quite pleasant, I think."

Harry thought so, too. In fact, the smell was so comforting that he began to feel very drowsy. The professor wouldn't mind if he just rested his eyes, would he? The fog that settled around his mind was very pleasant, too.

Once again, for the second time that day, Harry found himself drifting off to sleep on a sofa. It felt like no time had passed at all and he was being shaken awake yet again by very insistent hands. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, rubbing at his stiff neck.

Leoned was kneeling in front of him, brows furrowed in contemplation. "You didn't go to dinner. I had the house-elves whip something up for you, if you're hungry."

"How long was I asleep?" Harry wondered.

"Apparently two hours, it's half past eight now. Professor Dumbledore said you'd fallen asleep on him and we decided to let you rest for a bit before bothering you. If he'd mentioned he'd just left you sleeping on a sofa, I would have come by sooner."

It was just the two of them in the room and Harry's dinner was set up at the round table. While Leoned took a look around, Harry sat and ate. He did not pay much attention to what he was eating, nor was he feeling very hungry but he forced himself to chew and swallow until his plate did not look so full.

"You're not hungry?" Leoned asked, joining him at the table.

Harry mentally cursed, Leoned was turning out to be much too observant. He tried to smile reassuringly, "I guess not. I'm just really tired."

"All right," the red head said dubiously. "I'll have to bring you a basic nutritional potion, you need to get your strength up. I brought you a sleeping potion, just enough for tonight so you'll get a good-night's sleep, make sure to drink it before you go to bed. Sometime after classes tomorrow, I'd like to have Madam Rosemary have a look at you, too."

"Look at me for what?"

"For anything I might have missed, of course, I'm not an expert," Leoned rolled his eyes but he was smiling and Harry smiled back reflexively. "We had all your new things brought to your room, so they should be in the bedroom. If you need anything-"

"The bathroom, where is it? I'd like to get clean."

"Ah, of course," Leoned pushed to his feet and walked to the left side of the fireplace. Harry followed and stood watching curiously as the red head pulled out a sequence of books; red, yellow, blue, and green books, all in different shelves. The bookshelf shook momentarily and then moved back and to the side, revealing another room. "This is Gryffindor's private bath. I think you'll like it."

Harry walked inside and felt like he was stepping into a fairytale. The walls of the bathroom were painted and moved much like the castle portraits did; trees swayed in the breeze, birds flew in the sky, and ocean waves hit the shoreline with great splashes. Even the ceiling was painted and clouds moved across it, changing into various shapes like the ones in the parlor.

The bathtub, if it could really be called a bathtub, took up half the room and looked more like a swimming pool than any bathtub Harry had ever seen. There were stairs to help enter the tub and taps on every side, similar in fashion to the ones in the Prefects' bathroom.

"I'll leave you to it, then. I'll see you in the morning to walk you to Ancient Runes since we'll have that class together, Raven will be helping you with that class and also with Divination," Leoned grimaced as he thought of something. "She takes Divination very seriously, so I suggest paying proper attention in class. I don't take Divination but I hear Professor Cross is a really good teacher. Sorry, I'm babbling."

Harry shook his head with another small smile, "It's fine."

Leoned regarded him thoughtfully. "You don't talk much, do you? Well, you only just met all of us today, too. It's been quite a busy day for you, so I should really let you get some rest." He didn't look like he wanted to leave, though. In point of fact, he looked very concerned. "If you need me, you can just have a house-elf summon me."

Harry walked Leoned to the front door, smiling and waving as the red head left. Once the wall closed behind him, Harry dropped his smile and rubbed tiredly at his face. He didn't understand why he still felt so exhausted. But like Leoned had said, he'd only woken up that morning and he'd had a busy day. The rest of his time spent in 1943 until he got sent back home, if he ever got sent back, was looking to be busier still.

He found the sleeping potion on the bedside table, right alongside a round-faced alarm clock with a small dwarf figurine standing on top. The dwarf was holding a hammer, in position to bring it down over his head to hit the bell. A note on the table also revealed that Leoned had thoughtfully left him the alarm clock already set so he'd wake up early in the morning.

As he lay in bed staring at the canopy above him, having drunk down the sleeping potion with much reluctance, Harry wondered what Leoned considered early. The red head seemed like the cheerful early morning type, so he expected to be woken up at some ungodly hour. He didn't fight the drowsiness that overcame him and for the third and final time that day, Harry fell asleep.

_He was walking down a long, wet corridor, the sides of which were lined with statues in the shapes of snakes, their mouths gaping open to show fangs and split-tongues._

_No. He wasn't walking. He was slithering across the ground, heading towards the distant shape of a person who was hissing for him._

Before he could see the person's face, however, Harry was startled awake by the sound of his alarm clock ringing. He stared at the canopy above his bed for a while before turning his head to stare at his bedside table. The dwarf figurine was repeatedly slamming his little hammer down upon the alarm clock's bell and looked to continue doing so until Harry got up.

The dream forgotten, Harry groaned and pulled the sheets over his head, though that did not fully muffle the sound of the ringing bell.

"I see you're not a morning person," Leoned chirped as he entered the room, startling Harry. "I hope you don't mind that I let myself in."

"Err, how  _did_  you get in?" Harry asked, sitting up in bed. "Yesterday, too."

"Professor Dumbledore tried to foist these rooms onto Vincent when he became Head Boy," the red head explained, leaning against the open doorway. "It was fine for a week but Vincent kept getting pelted with books. So we decided to move out."

" _You_  didn't get hit?"

"Hmm, no. I guess the room is just very picky, it didn't like Rome or Rune either, actually."

Harry turned to blearily look at the alarm clock, which had stopped ringing as soon as he had sat up. The small hand was pointing to the eight and the big hand to twelve. It was eight in the morning, which meant breakfast would be held for another hour until classes began.

"Get up and dressed, I want to see you eat breakfast as you barely ate anything last night," with that, Leoned turned and left, drawing the door closed behind him. His voice filtered through the wall. "Don't even think about going back to sleep either. I can come in there and drag you out!"

Figuring the red head would do as he said—he seemed the type to always follow through with his promises –, Harry reluctantly pulled himself out of bed. Grabbing his wand and wrapping the holster around his arm before going through the shopping bags for clothes and everything else he'd need.

He was just beginning to panic when Leoned peaked his head in and distracted him.

"Are you ready?"

"I . . . guess. I don't need to take anything, do I?"

"Not for now, you'll just be taking tests. I'll let you borrow a quill if the teacher doesn't provide one for you," Leoned took in the expression on Harry's face and moved to grab him by the arm. "Don't look so panicked. You've completed sixth year already, so everything should be pretty simple for you. The curriculum couldn't have changed that much over the years . . . Could it?"

Harry shrugged. He was of the opinion that not much of the Wizarding World ever changed, so why would the Hogwarts curriculum be any different? Or so he hoped.

He followed obediently after Leoned, nodding politely to the students who stopped them, wishing to be introduced to the new student, but not paying them much interest aside. He recognized a few names here and there; Bones, Longbottom, Diggory. He was even introduced to a young, dark haired boy who Leoned introduced as Benjamin Potter.

"This is our cousin Benjamin Potter," Leoned said. "He's the younger brother of Charlus Potter."

Harry nodded along as though that meant something to him. He was somewhat amused to notice that, if not for the bright blue eyes, Benjamin Potter resembled him as a first year. Down to the thick-rimmed, round glasses that perched upon his nose, with white tape holding the bridge together.

"What happened to your glasses?" Leoned demanded, hands on his hips as he glared down at the small boy.

Benjamin nervously pushed said glasses up his nose, throwing a wide-eyed look at Harry, as though expecting him to come to the rescue. "I . . . stepped on them?"

"Are you asking me or do you know?" Leoned knelt so he was at the boy's level, gazing at him seriously. "Is someone bullying you?"

The boy threw another look at Harry, who wondered if perhaps he should leave the two of them alone. "No one is bullying me."

"Because if they are, you know we can just sic Vincent on them, right?"

Benjamin looked alarmed. "That just makes it worse!"

Leoned looked triumphant, "I knew it! You  _are_ being bullied!"

"No, I'm really not! If he's our cousin, why haven't I heard of him before?"

Leoned sputtered.

Harry had stopped paying attention to either of them, thinking instead of the long day that awaited him. He just felt very tired again, exhausted. He was sure he'd gotten plenty of sleep the night before. Was he going to feel so tired every single day he spent in the past? Would he ever get home?

It came so suddenly. Harry dazedly stared at Leoned and Benjamin, who were arguing back and forth about the merits of telling Vincent something? Harry couldn't concentrate on the words. Their lips were moving, but no sounds were coming out. He tried to reach forward with his hand, to nudge Leoned, to grab something, he didn't know.

"Are you okay?" Benjamin asked then, the words penetrating Harry's sudden daze.

He tried to say something, but the sound caught in his throat and choked him. Then he was kneeling on the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach as he trembled and tried to get some air in his lungs.

The walls were closing in on him and he could almost feel their weight toppling upon him. He couldn't seem to get his breath back, no matter how much he tried. The more he struggled with breathing, the more light-headed he became, and the world around him blurred.

He was dimly aware of someone casting the Patronus and for a horrifying moment he thought they were being attacked by Dementors.

Where was his wand? He was sure he'd placed it in the holster but it wasn't there. He couldn't feel the connection to it either, which meant it wasn't close. If they were being attacked by Dementors he needed his wand!

He was going to die. He was going to die in 1943 and no one back in his own time would ever know. He was going to die.

"Harry, it's all right. You're safe," Leoned was saying, voice calm and soothing. There were people—students—gathering around, whispering to each other. "Ignore the idiots, like they don't have better things to do with their time than stand around gawking!" The red head was holding some sort of vial in his hands and trying to uncork it, appearing unable to do so as his hands shook. He passed the vial over to Benjamin, who was kneeling beside him and staring at Harry with wide-eyes.

Benjamin quickly uncorked the vial and passed it back to Leoned, who held it out towards Harry. "I need you to drink this. It'll help you calm down, all right? It's nothing bad, trust me. You trust me, don't you?"

He didn't know why, but Harry did trust him. Leoned had been very kind to him since he'd arrived. The red head had done his utmost best and more to take good care of Harry thus far and Harry had no reason to doubt that he would continue to do so. He took the potion and slowly swallowed until he'd drunk every last drop.

A deep sense of peace and calm settled over him. Harry hadn't even realized he'd been crying and he shakily reached up to dry his face with his sleeves. He realized Leoned was talking about nothing of real importance and focused on the sound of the red head's voice until he could understand what was being said.

"Father wanted to name me Edmund but Mother insisted it must be Leo, after the constellation," the red head said, gazing off into space. Benjamin was gazing at his cousin with a bright, curious expression. The students had moved away, standing far back enough so that they weren't being a nuisance but close enough that they could see what was happening. Like they were watching some bloody show on the telly. "In the end, they decided to simply combine the two names, but Mother also insisted that I couldn't be named 'Leomund' or something as ridiculous as that. So they settled for Ned, which is a variant form of Edmund. That's how I came to be named 'Leoned'."

Harry stared at him, bewildered.

Leoned gazed back at him in concern. "How do you feel?"

Harry mulled over the question. His heart was still racing, his throat was sore, and he felt very, very tired. In full, he felt as though he'd been put through the wringer. "Fine."

The red head gazed at him dubiously, holding up his hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"All of them?"

"Follow my hand," Leoned moved his hand from side to side and Harry obediently followed the movement with his eyes. "Good. Do you still feel light-headed? Do you think you'll manage to walk to the Hospital Wing with me?"

"I think so," Harry murmured and allowed the two boys to help him to his feet. "I . . . I think I left my wand in the room."

"I'll go back for it once we get to the Hospital Wing," Leoned promised.

Students moved out of their way as they passed, though Leoned glared at them it did not stop their curious observation of Harry, who dazedly walked along. They reached the Hospital Wing in due time, having to stop occasionally as Harry was overcome with bouts of nausea.

Madam Rosemary was waiting for them at the door. "I received your message, Leo. I couldn't leave, though. I fear you may have more problems on your hands now."

"Why? What happened?" Leoned asked.

"Your brother," she gestured to the single bed with curtains drawn around it. "He showed up not half-an-hour ago. He refuses to speak to me."

"My brother? Vincent?"

"No, dear," she replied, guiding Harry to another bed and helping him get settled on it.

" _Rayn_?" Leoned demanded incredulously. "He's supposed to be at school. How did he get _here_?"

"Like I said, he hasn't spoken to me. I suggest you go in there and find out what's wrong. I'll take care of Harry—and before you say anything, I have already been informed of the situation," she held up a hand to forestall any further arguments. "I am the school nurse and I needed to be informed in case anything happened. Go check on your brother. Go on!"

Harry would have been amused as Leo high-tailed it to the other side of the room, if he could concentrate on anything for more than five seconds. As it was, he could only blink at the school matron. She reminded him nothing of Madam Pomfrey. Her dark hair was up in a neat bun and she appeared quite young, holding herself up straight even as she marched around the room.

Benjamin sat by the bed, looking curiously over to where Leoned had vanished, but remaining in his chair as he held Harry's hand.

"Mister Potter—Benjamin Potter, that is," Madam Rosemary said. "You may go to class now. I can take care of Mister— _Harry_  – just fine by myself. Goodness, it's almost as bad as with the Weasley children. I amaze myself everyday I can keep all of your names straight."

Benjamin smiled, still looking worried as he turned to Harry. "I have to go to class now. Will you be okay?"

Harry blinked at him, taking a moment to think over the question. "I think so."

That did not appear to assure the young boy, who made a terribly strange yet humorous face. His eyes closed, his mouth puckered, and his cheeks puffed up. It drew a startled laugh from Harry and Madam Rosemary, and appeased Benjamin enough that he happily skipped from the Hospital Wing after giving a final pat to Harry's hand.

"That boy reminds me more of his father every time I see him," the nurse murmured, shaking her head.

"You know his father?" Harry asked curiously.

"I have worked at Hogwarts for close to fifty years now, I remember many of the students, especially those who spent an innumerable amount of time in here."

"Fifty years? You look very young."

"Oh, nonsense. You are only saying that because you're out of sorts," though he was, indeed, out of sorts, Harry still saw the blush that covered the woman's cheeks and smiled. "Stop smiling, you look silly. Now, let's see. Dazed, confused, have you been experiencing moments of forgetfulness?" Harry shook his head, then thought the question over and shrugged. "Detachment? Displacement? Exhaustion?" Harry didn't understand the first two but nodded at the third. "What about hunger? Do feel like you're hungry at all times or do you feel a lack of appetite?"

"I'm not hungry," said Harry, rubbing at his stomach. The thought of food made him nauseous.

"Nausea. Well, that settles it."

"Settles it? You know what's wrong with me?"

"No, I don't. But I believe it has something to do with your . . . accident. You have all the symptoms of someone suffering from mental shock and if it were so I'd prescribe a Calming Draught, but I don't think that's the problem here. Just in case, I'll give you another Calming Draught later and keep you on a regimen of one dose a day until I've investigated this further."

Harry had nothing to say to that, so he settled for laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. He guessed he wouldn't be attending classes that day and the thought relieved him somewhat. He was so focused on the ceiling that he did not notice Leoned appearing and whispering fervently to Madam Rosemary. He only noticed Leoned when the red head's face appeared in his line of vision.

"Back to the Hospital Wing for you, I guess," Leoned said, laughing humorlessly and looking pained. "We'll have to reschedule the tests for another day. I'll grab your wand during lunch and bring it to you, okay?"

Though Harry really wanted his wand at that moment, he nodded in agreement.

Leoned was observing him closely, "I'm starting to realize that's what you look like when you're lying. You're not very good at it. I can go get it now, if you prefer."

"It's fine, really, I can manage. I'll just sleep, if you don't mind."

"I'll stop by when I can," said Leoned and he must have straightened up too fast because in the next moment he was bent over the bed, groaning and covering his mouth, his face disturbingly pale.

"Leo?" Harry wondered, attempting to sit up to assist the red head only to lay back down again as a wave of dizziness came over him again.

"If it's not one, it's the other!" he heard Madam Rosemary murmur.

As Leoned was led away, despite his reassuring that he was "just fine, thank you!" Harry noticed a young, pale haired boy standing at the far end of the room, observing the scene blankly. The boy appeared to sense that someone was watching him and turned deadened gray eyes to Harry, who couldn't even find enough energy to recoil from the emptiness that gazed back at him.

Once the steely gray eyes drifted away from him, Harry took a deep breath and tried to make himself comfortable on the bed. He was grateful when Madam Rosemary returned, without Leoned, and pulled the curtains around his bed closed. He dared not protest when she moved to tuck him in, only closing his eyes and letting the bone-deep exhaustion that wouldn't leave him pull him into sleep once again. He had the vague thought that he'd probably be spending many days simply sleeping.

Madam Rosemary woke him various times throughout the day. She fed him some chicken broth and crackers to settle his stomach and let him walk aimlessly around the Hospital Wing when the anxiety got to be too much. He didn't dare go near the bed at the far end of the room, where the pale haired boy still lay. He could almost feel the steely gray eyes staring at him through the curtain and it made him antsy.

When he mentioned it to the matron, she assured him he was only imagining things. Harry didn't think so and fretted until she sent him back to bed for hovering around her while she was trying to work.

He was absently flipping through a random book Madam Rosemary had given him, not really taking in any of the words, when Tom Riddle walked through the entrance. Harry was too engrossed in flipping through the pages to notice the visitor. The act of watching the pages turn and feeling the slight breeze they created was actually very calming.

"Is it that fascinating?" Tom asked, when it looked like Harry would not be paying him any attention despite him standing right next to the bed. He withdrew the book from Harry's grasp, drawing his immediate attention. "You failed to notify the rest of us that you were in the Hospital Wing."

"Aren't you a Prefect? Why aren't you in class?" asked Harry and he was surprised by how lucid he sounded. For the first time since he'd left his room without his wand, he found that he could focus on something. Even if that  _something_  was a  _someone_  named Tom Riddle, it relieved him but also confused him.

"Classes are over for the day, it's already after dinner. I waited for you in Potions, no one saw fit to let me know you wouldn't be showing up," replied Tom, peeved. "The rumor is that you had a panic attack. Reasons range from being nervous about your first day of class at Hogwarts to feeling claustrophobic with all the students, and there was a really interesting one about you having come from the war in Europe, that you saw your entire family die and suffered severe mental trauma."

Harry tried to think of a response to that but only managed to open and close his mouth like a fish before giving up. Salvation came in the form of Leoned, who was carrying Harry's wand, and Runako Black, who was attached to the red head's arm like a leech.

"I'm telling you I saw it! That  _beast_  has been following me around!" Runako said.

"That  _Kneazle_  was returned to Professor Kettleburn, I even went to see him and he was in his cage!" Leoned growled, trying to shake the boy off. "Look, I understand that you're afraid of him. But you've been attached to my arm for most of the day and it's starting to annoy me." He faltered as he caught sight of Tom standing by Harry's bed, turning to push Runako away from him as he hissed, "Will you behave?"

"What are  _you_  doing here?" Runako demanded, glaring at the Slytherin.

"You don't  _own_  the Hospital Wing, I can be here if I like," Tom said shortly.

"Look, Rayn is over in that bed at the far end. Just . . . go," Leoned shooed the boy away, who grumbled as he stomped past Harry's bed, never taking his eyes away from Tom. As he was keeping his eyes trained on the Slytherin, Runako did not watch where he was going and tripped as his foot caught the edge of another bed, ending up sprawled on the floor.

Leoned palmed his face while Tom and Harry ignored the commotion. Harry was more focused on his wand and the red head finally realized that, handing it over.

"Thank you," said Harry gratefully. He realized he was hungry then and moved to grab the tray of food Madam Rosemary had left at the bedside table.

"Here, I'll get that," Leoned said. He pulled down the legs on the tray and placed it over Harry's lap, speaking amiably as he moved. "Great news, Harry. Professor Dumbledore personally contacted the Ministry and they said they'd be sending someone who is 'more experienced' with such matters. I hope that means they'll send along someone competent."

"More experienced with such matters? There are people who have experience with time-traveling working for the Ministry?" Harry asked.

"I don't think Professor Dumbledore actually mentioned the time-traveling but maybe he did. All he told me was that someone from the Ministry was being sent to investigate the  _matter_."

From the way Leoned rolled his eyes, Harry surmised that the red head had not much faith in the Ministry. Not that Harry blamed him, if the Ministry of the current year was anything like the one in his own time. He hoped it wasn't but Leoned wasn't giving him much faith.

"Is there a particular reason you're hanging around here?" Leoned ventured, looking at Tom.

The Slytherin Prefect scowled, the corner of his eye twitching. "There was. But I can see you're going to take up all of his time, so I'll just come back later. When  _you're_  not here."

"I'll be here all night," Leoned said, smiling widely and blinking innocently.

"Don't you have a  _life_?" Tom wondered, shaking his head in disbelief. He considered the two of them seriously for a moment, sighing his annoyance. "Fine. Potter— _Harry_ , that is—is going to be my Potions partner from now on. I've already cleared it with Professor Black, so I'd appreciate being notified when he's going to miss class again. I'm not going to fail class just because my partner ends up in the Hospital Wing for whatever reason."

Leoned growled, "He can't  _help_ it!"

"I wasn't  _blaming_  him!" Tom growled back.

Bewildered, Harry could only shift his gaze from one to the other as the two practically butted heads. He noticed that when angry, Tom Riddle tended to end his words with a slight almost unnoticeable hiss. He didn't think the Slytherin ever lost his temper so and wondered about the sudden show of anger. From Dumbledore's and Slughorn's memories of Tom Riddle, Harry recalled a sullen, always serious boy with sharp, deadly eyes.

He watched as Tom stormed out of the Hospital Wing with as much dignity as he could muster. After a moment's silence, during which Leoned readjusted his clothes and pat himself down, Harry reached up to rub at his suddenly tired eyes.

It was strange. He had felt so focused and lucid when the Slytherin had been present and with his absence Harry felt exhausted yet again. Not even the connection with his wand helped him to fight off the drowsiness and he lay back down, almost knocking over the tray that was still on his lap. He hardly felt Leoned remove it and rearrange the blankets around him, already fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # In this chapter, Harry shows many symptoms of an acute stress reaction. This includes; a state of daze, lack of attention, disorientation, anxiety, and confusion. But he is actually suffering from something completely different, as will be shown in the following chapter. In the end, Harry has a panic attack. I've never had one before, I've only ever had asthma attacks. So my rendition of a person having a panic attack might seem really weird . . . sorry. :C
> 
> # Harry sleeps for most of the chapter. This is part of the above note. It will all be explained in the following chapter. I think . . . I'm not done with it yet, so it might not be. O.O
> 
> # I'll be changing the ratings of the story in time . . . again. I didn't realize that so many dark things were going to happen in the future, but I've taken the time to read the original author's notes and it makes sense and I've decided not to change her original plans. Because they're actually pretty awesome and I hope I do it justice! /pumped up


	4. A Theory of Time Displacement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [fic tumblr](http://liliume-writes.tumblr.com/). Where I'm gonna try to keep people updated on what's going on.

Harry woke with a start, a gasp lodged in his throat and heart racing. The unmistakable sound of distant hissing still ringing in his ears. He pushed the blankets aside as he sat up, rubbing his face and thinking back to the dream from which he'd woken.

He had been slithering through the dense vegetation of a dark forest. Towards shadowed figures standing in the distance. He didn't know if the light or the shadows played tricks on him as the figures looked hunched over and disfigured from the distance. Their forms resembling enormous dogs with stooped and crooked backs.

The closer he slithered the larger the figures grew until they were looming well over him. Their eyes shone red and their fangs dripped with blood that gathered in pools at their feet. He thought he smelled the stench of blood in the air. Or from the breath of one creature as it gathered closer and closer—until he'd startled awake.

There was little light in the infirmary, it must have been early morning. He pushed himself to his feet and visited the bathroom before wobbling back to bed unsteadily.

"Who are you then?" A disembodied voice asked, startling him out of his wits. A shadow detached itself from the wall and icy gray eyes gazed at him with disinterest, belying the question. It was the pale haired boy from before, with the deadened eyes that drew one in like an abyss.

"Harry Potter," Harry replied hesitantly.

"I didn't ask for your name," the boy said, voice dripping with disdain. "I asked you who you are." He scowled and strode forward, forcing Harry to take several steps back lest he got run over. "I've known the Potters for a long time and you are not their cousin. So I'll ask you one more time; who are you?"

"He is too my cousin!" Benjamin cried, startling Harry as he ran out of the darkness to push himself between them. "You're the one who isn't!"

Harry held the side of his head, rubbing at his temples and observing the scene in silence. The pale haired boy did not look amused as he stared down his nose at the first year. He finally turned and moseyed back to his own area, leaving the first year Gryffindor spluttering behind him.

Benjamin turned his pouting face to Harry, huffing his irritation, "He's so rude."

Harry arched an eyebrow at him in disbelief, crossing his own arms over his chest. "What are you even doing here? The sun hasn't risen yet."

"I couldn't sleep," the boy mumbled, scuffing his bare toes against the cold marble floor. "I had a feeling you might need me."

"You couldn't take a moment to put on some socks? Or a pair of slippers?" Harry easily and unthinkingly lifted the boy into his arms. Benjamin felt tiny in his arms and weighed about as much as Crookshanks ever had. "You weigh about as much as my friend's cat."

"Mother says it's because I take more after her and not Father, I'm _petite_ ," Benjamin said, no doubt echoing his mother's words. "Can I stay here with you?" He continued before Harry could argue. "The hallways are dark and the floor is terribly cold and I promise I don't snore!"

"But you won't wake in time for class. Why don't I walk back with you?" Harry suggested.

Benjamin pouted again but considered the words with care. "Do you feel better now?"

"Much better," answered Harry. He sat Benjamin upon his bed, toeing off his own slippers and sliding them onto the boy's smaller feet. Remembering to tie his wand holster around his arm and grab his wand before holding out his hand. "Let's go then."

Benjamin's happiness was obvious as he took the offered hand, all but skipping down the hallway in his excitement. Harry wondered if he'd ever been that excitable or adorable. He had definitely been that reckless.

"Do you often wander the corridors in the dark?" Harry asked.

". . . No?" Benjamin offered. He had trouble walking with the slippers on his feet, throwing looks down at them so he wouldn't miss a step. The slippers were much larger than his tiny feet. Enough that they continued to slip off and they stopped several times so Benjamin could fix them.

"Here, I can shrink those," Harry proposed as they stopped once again, tired of watching the boy struggling to walk.

"What?" Benjamin turned to face him only to trip over his feet, if not for Harry holding his hand he would have fallen flat on his face. "Ow."

Neither noticed the figure that emerged from the shadows at the end of the hallway until it stood right beside them. Harry fixed the slippers before bothering to acknowledge the looming presence of Tom Riddle.

"May I ask what you're both doing?" Tom asked. He looked to be genuinely curious about the answer. He stood alert over them, glancing about their surroundings with caution.

Harry wasn't all that surprised to see him already dressed in school robes. He continued to hold Benjamin's hand, even as the first year tried to hide behind him, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm accompanying Benjamin back to Gryffindor Tower. Why are you up so early?" Harry asked.

The Slytherin gave them both one last searching glance before relaxing. "I always take the early morning round since I am accustomed to waking at this hour. I will walk with you, if that is permissible?"

"Why not?" Harry agreed with ease, amused by the question.

Once he saw that they were not going to get in trouble, Benjamin relaxed. He trotted beside Harry, even swinging their joined hands back and forth. He remained unaware of the curious yet bewildered glances he received from Tom. It was amusing for Harry to see the Slytherin so baffled by a child.

"You're looking better today," said Tom in a casual manner as they were climbing up the Grand Staircase.

"Thank you?" Harry wondered, taken aback. "I feel much better actually. I suppose I just needed a little more rest."

"Perhaps," Tom murmured and grew silent.

Benjamin yawned widely, rubbing at his eyes as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. They prodded him several times before he blurted out a word garbled beyond recognition. Either that was the password or the Fat Lady took pity on them but the portrait pulled open to reveal the Gryffindor Common Room. The fireplace and a few candles around the room provided them with enough light. Yet both Benjamin and Harry stumbled over the raised entrance as they entered.

Harry carried the dozing Benjamin up the stairs as Tom lit the way with his wand. The first year pointed out his door before laying his head on Harry's shoulder again. Inordinately pleased with himself as he hugged the teen about the neck.

"What?" Tom wondered in confusion as he opened the door and almost stumbled over a thin wire tied to both sides of the doorway.

The Slytherin's name frozen on his lips, Harry watched the bucket positioned over the door tip over. Tom remained frozen in the doorway as the torrent of water cascaded over him.

The laughter inside the room tapered off. The silence ringing as the children realized just who stood in the open doorway. Harry couldn't see them with Tom standing in the way. He heard one gasp and another start hyperventilating. He felt no ounce of remorse for them as Benjamin tightened his hold on his neck, shivering and sniffling. He was smart enough to realize that the prank was for one person and that person had not been Tom Riddle.

"Should we wait in the Common Room?" Harry whispered in a soothing voice. He turned and headed back down to the Common Room as Benjamin nodded into his shoulder, still refusing to lift his head.

They heard Tom barking at the first years as they descended the stairs. Followed by doors opening as the commotion drew the attention of the other neighboring students.

He sat Benjamin on a chair by the fireplace, using his wand to conjure up a blanket. He ensconced the boy in it before demanding, "How long have they been bullying you?"

"They don't bully me," Benjamin denied. There was no sign of uncertainty or deceit on his face or in his voice. Clearly the first year truly believed he was not a victim of bullying.

"What do you call what happened upstairs then?" Harry asked, confused.

"It's just a harmless prank," Benjamin replied.

He echoed words spoken to him by someone, Harry realized. "Who told you that?"

"Professor Dumbledore."

"You mentioned this to Dumbledore?"

Benjamin shrugged, uncomfortable with the question. A line of first years entered the room, all on the verge of tears. A pair of yawning Gryffindors followed them. Harry noticed the Prefect badges attached to their uniforms. From the state of their clothing, Harry guessed they'd gotten dressed in a hurry.

The Prefects corralled the first years out the door as Tom entered the Common Room. He waved his wand over himself, drying what he could of his uniform and fixing his hair.

"We're going to the Headmaster's office," he explained once done, gesturing at Benjamin with his chin. "He needs to make a formal complaint."

"Come on," Harry helped the boy to his feet.

"What's a 'formal complaint'?" Benjamin asked.

"You will tell the Headmaster that your dorm mates have been bullying you," replied Tom. Just as well, since Harry did not know what a 'formal complaint' was. "And he will decide a proper punishment for them."

"But I already told Professor Dumbledore," the boy argued, confused.

Tom threw him an inscrutable look. "Did you?" He said nothing else as they followed behind the Gryffindor Prefects and the frightened first years. The hallways were still dark where there were no windows. The portraits grumbled and complained about the lights coming from the tips of their wands.

Harry seethed at the turn of events. Benjamin was small, almost an entire head smaller than the rest of his dorm mates. Harry could sympathize with his plight. The other children had often bullied him due to his size, especially his own cousin Dudley. He had learned to avoid them first and then to fight back and defend himself. Benjamin did not seem the type to fight back, even if he could.

Tom disappeared up the stairs to wake the Headmaster. While one of the Gryffindor Prefects left to inform their Head of House, Dumbledore, of the situation. Harry sat with Benjamin dozing in his lap while they waited.

The first year had crawled into his lap as soon as he'd sat, clinging to him with octopus-like arms. The other three first years squashed themselves into the second armchair.

The lone Gryffindor Prefect had propped himself against the wall and appeared to have gone back to sleep. Harry wondered how he managed to keep himself standing and if perhaps he had grown accustomed to sleeping in such a position.

They did not wait long as Dumbledore arrived by himself, excusing the Gryffindor Prefect. He moved to stand by the Headmaster's desk. Headmaster Dippet made his way down the stairs, still dressed in pajamas and looking far too awake at such an early hour. Tom followed behind him and took a place by Harry's chair.

The atmosphere tensed as the Headmaster peered at them. He took his seat, folding his hands on top of the desk.

"Four in the morning," he began, voice grave. "Would someone care to explain why I am awake at four in the morning?"

One of the first years gathered his courage and spoke before anyone else could, "We caught Benjamin sneaking out of bed!"

"Is this true?" the Headmaster asked Benjamin, who huddled closer to Harry and shook his head.

"They didn't catch me, they were sleeping when I left," Benjamin explained guilelessly.

Tom coughed, covering his mouth with a fist and clearing his throat when he received various curious glances. He pushed himself back a step so he stood behind both Harry and Benjamin, away from the suspicious stare of Dumbledore. He remained close enough that his looming presence induced panic in the other three first years.

"And why, may I ask, were you sneaking out bed?" Dippet asked.

"I wanted to visit Harry in the Hospital Wing before Madam Rosemary woke up," Benjamin explained. He beamed, "Did you know he's my cousin?"

"Indeed, I did!" Dippet exclaimed, beaming back.

"Headmaster, perhaps it is not wise to encourage the boy to sneak out of bed," Dumbledore intervened. a strained smile upon his face.

Harry frowned, looking back and forth between the two men. "Err, we're not here to talk about Benjamin sneaking out of bed, Headmaster."

"Oh?" Dippet appeared bewildered. "Then what seems to be the problem?"

"The problem, Headmaster, is that these three students are bullying Benjamin Potter," Tom said. 

"Bullying is such a strong word," Dumbledore argued, his smile benign. "I assure you that it is a simple misunderstanding, Headmaster. It was merely a harmless prank."

"You don't even know what they did," Harry said, confused. "How can you call it a harmless prank?"

"They are children," Dumbledore explained, as though that excused everything.

"I suppose you will continue to use that excuse as they grow older," Harry grumbled. He recalled the Marauders and their treatment of Snape. He had never liked the man but there was no excuse for the behavior of his father and his friends. He became aware of the attention he was receiving—especially Dumbledore's startled expression—and blushed.

"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore demanded, shocked.

Harry instinctively drew Benjamin closer, drawing comfort from his small form. "I'm sorry, Professor, but . . . as someone often bullied throughout his childhood by other children, this concerns me." He could almost feel Tom's presence burning at his back and it hardened his resolve. "Erm, and as a new Gryffindor student I am very interested in knowing if my Head of House is incapable of taking care of his own students." He hastily threw out a "sir" after he finished, shifting uncomfortably under the combined stares of everyone in the room.

Benjamin stared at him with wide, shining eyes. Harry tried not to squirm at the hero worship he could recognize in that steady gaze.

"I feel that you have more to say on the matter," the Headmaster gestured for him to continue.

Harry hesitated but gathered his courage and carried on, "I know from personal experience that bullying doesn't stop as the bullies get older. It only gets worse. Maybe when it started these kids," he gestured at the three huddling first years, "just wanted to prank Benjamin. But it has gotten progressively worse. They had a bucket of cold water suspended over the door to their room. It was luck that the bucket didn't fall and seriously injure someone."

"A bucket of water?" Headmaster Dippet straightened in his chair, his scowl furious as he glared at the first years. "I thought you had learned your lesson after the last time you attempted that prank!"

"The last time . . .?" Harry echoed faintly.

"Ah, boys," the man stood, gesturing for them to stand as well. "Do not worry, I will be taking care of this. You can be sure there will be no more bullying or pranks of any kind." He gazed down at Benjamin. "There will be no sneaking out of bed in the early hours of the morning," he held up a hand to forestall Benjamin's questions, "or at night. Tom, would you be so kind as to escort Mister Potter to his room? Good, good!"

As he had not indicated which Mister Potter he was to escort, Tom arched an eyebrow at both of them. He held his hand out in a rather formal manner, indicating for them to go ahead of him.

Benjamin grasped Harry's hand and pulled him along. The walk to Gryffindor Tower was silent but for the pitter patter of Benjamin's slippers. The floor was cold beneath Harry's socked feet and he tried to concentrate on other things.

He had already been aware of Dumbledore's penchant for favoritism but seeing it in action had brought the point home. He was also unsure what to make of Tom Riddle. The boy continued to prove Harry's preconceptions wrong. Harry had never imagined Tom Riddle to be . . . the way he was.

The boy was often quiet, preferring to observe in silence rather than make himself heard. Benjamin was either using that to his advantage or perhaps he had much to say. Tom listened with avid interest to the first year's ramblings. Or maybe he only humored Benjamin, Harry couldn't tell.

Upon reaching Benjamin's room the boy turned to face them with a strange look upon his face. Somewhere between irritated and embarrassed. Tom arched an eyebrow at Harry, as though expecting him to know what it was the first year wanted.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, confused.

"I can tuck myself in now," Benjamin said, glaring at them with all the petulance of a boy his age. He shuffled his feet, pulling at the bottom of his pajama top. "I can take care of myself too."

"No one said you couldn't," Tom pointed out, still confused.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. He had just been thinking that Benjamin needed protecting. Not that he would be sharing that piece of information.

"I guess you want us to leave then?" Harry asked instead. He gestured at the boy's feet. "Maybe you'd like to give me back my slippers?"

"Oh, right!" Benjamin was quick to remove the shoes from his feet, turning and throwing himself upon his bed. He bounced a couple of times before scrambling under the covers. Fluffing his pillows and making himself comfortable. Then he removed his glasses and placed them on his bedside table. Squinting at them from the comforts of his bed.

Harry tried not to think about how endearing and childish he was. "Are you sure you don't want me to tuck you in? This one time?"

Benjamin tried to appear reluctant but was swift to cave in, seeking comfort after the terrible morning he'd had. He accepted the hug from Harry, clinging to him tight for a moment before moving back and throwing the covers over his head.

Harry hovered, uncertain, by the bed. Only stepping away when he noticed Tom stepping back towards the doorway, cheeks an unusual shade of red.

"We should let him get some sleep," the Slytherin said. He did not look at Harry as they left the boy to his slumber. They remained silent even as they climbed down the stairs and back out the portrait hole, only then did Tom speak again. "I should return to my duties."

Harry made a sound of agreement, unable to think of something to say, or if he wanted to say anything at all. He watched the Slytherin turn to walk stiffly down the hallway for a second before following after him, bemused. He wondered where the Slytherin headed that he appeared to be leading the way back to the Hospital Wing.

He did not speak as he followed a few paces behind the Slytherin, not daring to ask for fear of breaking the silence. They reached the entrance to the Hospital Wing and Tom stopped beside the doorway.

"What?" Tom demanded upon seeing Harry's bewilderment. He sniffed, disdainful and haughty, turning his reddening face away from Harry's curious observation. "I couldn't let you roam the hallways unsupervised."

"Um, thank you . . ." said Harry, halting and unsure. He trailed off as Tom stalked away with a dramatic billow of his robe, his form fading into the darkness of the hallway. Harry rubbed his face as he headed back to his assigned bed. He threw a suspicious glance towards the only other occupied space in the Hospital Wing. There were no sounds or movements from behind the curtain. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, proceeding to his bed before he could be waylaid once again. There was something frightening about the boy with the deadened eyes.

He lay in bed staring at the ceiling, contemplating everything that had transpired. He thought first of his reaction to Benjamin. The small boy was endearing and adorable. He reminded Harry quite a bit of himself as a first year. Not to say that Harry thought he'd been adorable as a first year but they were rather similar in appearance if not personality. Harry preferred to associate with people his own age. He had never bothered to pay attention to the younger years. Yet something about Benjamin had demanded Harry's attention from the start and Harry would figure out what it was.

A sudden image of Tom Riddle derailed his thoughts. From their few interactions thus far, Harry had gathered that the Slytherin was often solemn. He could be snarky when he wanted and he was admittedly handsome. Not that Harry had been looking but it was a bit hard to ignore, wasn't it? But Harry did not doubt that Tom could be as sly and manipulative as Voldemort.

The boy cut a striking figure. From the immaculate state of his clothes to his high cheek bones and hazel eyes. Even his hair had been tidy and neat, framing his face-

Harry covered his face with his hands, then flailed his arms about as though to chase the thoughts away. He flopped onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. He shouldn't be thinking those thoughts. Furious, he tried to think of other things.

An hour passed and the sun began shining through the windows. Not enough to see properly but enough for the darkness to recede little by little. Until light filled every corner of the room. Harry wondered how long he'd lain there thinking without thinking at all.

Sounds of Madam Rosemary bustling about filtered through the curtains. The nurse was not surprised to find him wide awake. She left him to his thoughts shortly and returned soon with his breakfast. Harry ate with relish, feeling somehow rejuvenated and glad that the smell of food didn't make him nauseous.

Afterwards, he read a book lent to him by the nurse. To keep him occupied and out of her hair. She hadn't said as much, but he had become well versed in understanding the arch of her eyebrows. Or perhaps just the exasperation upon her face.

_Advanced Theories of Magical Remedies_ , read the cover of the book. It wasn't something Harry would have bothered to read but it had been a choice between that or a romance novel. He was lucid enough that he did not want to get caught reading a romance novel.

He was slogging through the second chapter— _Magical Injuries and Maladies_ —when an odd person entered his area. Harry did not notice he had company until the sounds of a throat clearing startled him.

Shocked at seeing the . . . person? Being? He assumed the person was male from the flat, muscled chest that was visible through the tight sleeveless leather vest he wore. He also wore leather trousers and knee-high boots with many buckles. Dark leather bracers adorned his wrists and a long gray scarf wrapped around his neck.

The man's strange fashion aside, what most startled Harry was the person himself. The man had unusual ebony colored skin, long white hair, and silver eyes. Harry had never seen anyone like him before.

As the man removed his hood, Harry's immediate attention went to his ears, which were long and pointed. Earrings pierced the tips and lobes of both ears, with a chain connecting both. The man had an unnatural beauty despite his otherworldly appearance.

He knew he was staring. He tried to make himself stop. The man seemed accustomed to people staring, for he just pulled up a chair and sat.

"Good morning," said the man. His voice washed over Harry like a soothing balm, warming him in an instant and setting him at ease. "I am Aeron Zabini. I work for the Ministry of Magic and I will be handling your case."

_Zabini?_ Harry wondered. The man certainly didn't look like the Zabini Harry had known. He shook off his confusion and managed a "good morning."

Aeron Zabini hummed. He flourished a hand; a piece of parchment and a quill appeared, floating near his head. Harry was suitably impressed but if the man was some type of magical being, then perhaps he did not use a wand to begin with?

"Your name is Harry Potter?" the man questioned. He waited patiently for Harry's responses as he began a series of questions: date of birth, age at the time of the incident, what year did the incident happen. Harry answered the questions on automatic. He had never been fond of interviews. "Do you have any thoughts on why this might have happened?"

"Not in the slightest," Harry replied truthfully. "I do have a time turner but it's deactivated. It was a gift given to me as a keepsake by my head of house."

"May I see it?" the man held out his hand. Though he voiced the request as a question, it was obvious Harry did not have much choice in the matter.

He was intimidating, this man. Harry gave him the time turner. He had no use for it but for the memories, many of which were not pleasant to bother thinking about.

"I will be taking this with me," Aeron said, after examining the small device. "You never know what type of residual magic might remain and anything we can find will be useful to fixing your problem. I'm afraid that there's not much we can do for you, at least for now." He held up the time turner. "We have only just begun experimenting with time. Time Turners are a fairly new invention for us. That they allow students to use these in the future . . . we must have made many advancements with them, don't you think?"

"I suppose," Harry agreed without understanding.

The man's lips quirked for a brief moment. Harry wouldn't have noticed if he'd not been staring intently at him.

"You can owl me if you have any questions. You can also fire-call or visit me at the Ministry, just ask for my office," the man continued. "Any inquiries you might have or anything you can think of that might help us, you're welcome to contact me. If it's an emergency, you may relay a message to me through my husband-"

"Husband?" Harry interrupted. Who would marry someone so intimidating?

The man arched an eyebrow. "You may relay a message to me through my husband, Octavius. He teaches Potions at this school-"

" _Potions?_ " Harry interrupted once again.

Aeron shifted on the seat, letting out a heavy breath. Harry sat back, contrite.

"Sorry, it's just-I thought Professor Slughorn taught Potions," he explained.

"Octavius teaches first through sixth year Potions. I believe someone else teaches the seventh years but I do not know," Aeron shrugged. The fluid and elegant motion of the man's shoulders mesmerized Harry and he flushed, looking down at the book he still held in his lap. "There is the question of your guardianship until you return to your rightful time. For now, I am your legal guardian. We can find new guardians for you if you think me unsatisfactory."

Harry flushed some more, staring at the man with wide eyes. _Unsatisfactory_.

"Do you understand and agree with this?"

Harry was quick to agree, unable to form words around his dry throat.

"Madam Rosemary tells me you are feeling ill," Aeron continued. "I will be providing her with a potion that should help. I do believe you are suffering from time displacement. It usually goes away on its own but it is uncomfortable to deal with."

"What is 'time displacement'?" Harry wondered.

"That is the term we use when a wizard is displaced in time. It sounds better than 'wizard displacement', doesn't it? We have conducted many studies with time. We discovered that the effects of time displacement worsen as one travels further from the starting point. It has proved especially severe when the wizard traveled back to before they were born. It is surprising that you are only suffering some mild side effects of time displacement. We also discovered that it is faster for a time traveler to acclimate to their surroundings when they have a focus. A focus is something from the time they traveled to that is undeniably theirs. Perhaps a house that has always been in the family, a family heirloom, sometimes even their own family—a mother, father, grandparents, for instance. Or in your case, a wand that has only one true owner. You."

Harry blinked, coming out of his stupor. He had been staring at the way the light filtering through the windows shone upon the man's hair. Making it appear bright and resplendent.

"If you have any other questions, please feel free to ask," the man said. "I have to be getting back to work. We'll talk again soon."

"Err," Harry managed, drawing the man's attention. "What-what are you?" He flushed when the man smirked at him in amusement. "It's just-your magic. Your magic feels strange."

"My magic?" the man echoed numbly. He touched the bracers on his wrists, throwing Harry an inscrutable look. "The wizards call us elves. Those like me they _classify_ as dark elves due to the color of our skin. We prefer the term Drow." He finished checking the bracers, frowning in thought. "There's more to you than meets the eye, Harry Potter."

Harry flushed again, cursing himself for being so easy to overwhelm when faced with beautiful people.

"Tell me, where did you get that oddly shaped scar on your forehead?" Aeron asked.

"From the dark wizard who killed my parents," Harry replied, awkwardly moving his hair to cover the scar.

The man hummed again, pale eyes scrutinizing Harry with intimidating intensity. "Be careful what you dream."

Aeron Zabini left before Harry could digest his warning. Had it been a warning? Harry couldn't be sure. He took a moment to gather his wits, mentally scolding himself for acting like a fool in front of the man. No doubt Aeron Zabini had grown accustomed to people acting like fools in his presence. It hadn't been the man's looks that had overwhelmed Harry, although he _was_ quite handsome. It had been the man's magic that had drawn his attention.

The magic that poured off the man had been nothing like Harry had ever felt before. It wasn't like a wizard's magic, which tended to be silent or tuneless. The man's magic had been . . . dramatic. It rose steeply and fell sharply, like background music during a climactic scene in a movie. It had teetered in and out of range, as though it were escaping its confinement but pulled back at the last second. Rather anticlimactic in the end.

At least so far as Harry had gathered. But he had just begun to understand the magic he saw all around him and he was no expert. The man had been surprised that Harry could see his magic at all, perhaps he should not have been able to.

Harry resolved to keep such things quiet from then on. He had enough things to worry about without causing more problems for himself.

Drow, elf, or whatever the man was. Harry decided he might as well learn all he could about him and what he was. It would keep him occupied for a time and it'd be good to learn more about the man who was now his official guardian.

_Be careful what you dream_. What could the man have meant?


	5. Birds of a Feather

Harry slogged through the third chapter of _Advanced Theories of Magical Remedies_ —titled _Commonly Known Remedies Around the World_. The morning passed in relative peace; Harry ignored the occupant of the corner bed and the boy ignored him in return. He had no visitors until lunch, during which a group of unfamiliar students—first or second years by the looks of them—careened into the Hospital Wing. Each one sprouting flowers in different places.

Soon after, a statuesque, ebony haired girl entered, pausing just inside the doorway to take stock of the situation. Harry was helping Madam Rosemary pass out Calming Droughts to the distraught students. Two of the boys were clinging to Harry's sides and bawling their eyes out. They were crying about how they couldn't go around looking like gardens.

The single girl of the lot refused to have Madam Rosemary fix the problem. She stated that she quite liked looking like a garden—plus she liked the smell of the flowers. She was soon convinced otherwise when Harry pointed out that the flowers would attract unwanted attention. Like bees or worse.

After the group had stopped sprouting flowers, the boys swore Harry to secrecy about both the crying and the flowers. Harry solemnly promised to never speak of the incident to anyone.

He found a familiar stranger sitting by his bed. He tried to recall the girl's name. Raven something-or-other.

"You're good with children," she said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry denied, flushing. He spied the stacks— _stacks!_ —of books atop his bed. "Err, what's all this?"

"I imagined you'd be bored, so I brought you a few books to pass the time," she replied.

_Few_? Harry wondered, amused. He grabbed one of the top books, surprised to discover it was on the art of divination. A glance at the others showed that quite a few of them were on divination.

"You like Divination?" he asked.

She certainly didn't seem the type to take that subject serious. At first glance she had reminded him a bit of Hermione, with her obvious high intellect and strict posture. But on second glance he noticed the way her eyes seemed glazed and the absent smile that played about her lips.

"It's my favorite class," she replied, smile widening. "What about you? What's your favorite class?"

Harry took a seat atop his bed, careful of dislodging the stacks of books as he got settled. "Well, I've always liked Defense Against the Dark Arts."

She seemed surprised. "Is that so? You don't seem the type. I had you pegged for Ancient Runes."

"I never took the class," Harry said. "I never would have pegged you as someone interested in divination, either. I mean, someone like you-"

"Someone like me?" she interrupted, confused. The way she widened her eyes was distracting. She was reminding him more and more of Luna and less of Hermione.

"Never mind," Harry laughed. He didn't see why everyone found her so strict. Although at first glance she did seem very intimidating, it was mostly due to her appearance. She was fairly tall and lean. Her long ebony hair tied back in a high ponytail, her face framed by bangs. "So you thought divination would interest me?"

"No, _Ancient Runes_ ," she reiterated, picking up two books from another stack. "Since I am in charge of making sure you're caught up with the class, I brought you these. They're beginner books for studying runes." The dread must have shown on his face because she continued, voice reassuring. "The class is just memorizing runes and then translating works written in runes. A little boring, if I do say so myself."

"Then why are you taking the class?"

"For my runecasting, of course," Raven replied. She pulled a bag from one of her pockets, opening it to pull out several oval shaped rocks. Each one inscribed with unfamiliar markings. "Unlike fortune telling, which deals with the future; runecasting is for guidance in the present."

"But it's a form of divination?" Harry asked.

"You don't have much faith in divination, do you?"

Harry shrugged, uncomfortable. "It ruined my life. My parents were murdered thanks to a prophecy."

"I see," Raven frowned, gazing at him in sympathy. She took a furtive look around then leaned closer to Harry, voice lowered, "I'll tell you a little secret. Miss Cross, the Divination's professor, foretold your arrival."

"Err, excuse me?"

Raven paused, gazing off to the side where the strange boy had emerged from behind the curtains of his area. The boy glared at Harry, until he caught sight of Raven and he _flinched_ back, staring at her with wide eyes. He quickly vanished behind the curtains again.

"She said, ' _When the sun falls from the sky, the snake will come out to play_ '," Raven continued as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Harry arched an eyebrow when he realized she wasn't going to say more. "That's it?"

Raven blinked owlishly. "Yes. Is there supposed to be more?"

"Usually there is," Harry mumbled. "I don't understand. What does the sun falling from the sky have to do with me?"

Raven traced a shape on her forehead. "You have _sowilo_ on your forehead. It is the sun." She opened one of the Ancient Runes books and pointed to something on the page.

One of the runes did look like his scar, he realized. Beside the rune it read, " _Wholeness_. The sun."

"It makes perfect sense, doesn't it?" she asked. "You fell from the sky. I wonder what the snake part means. Do you suppose it's talking about one of the Slytherins who were present?"

"I-I don't know," Harry managed. He didn't like the thought of someone making prophecies about him. It made him very uncomfortable. "I'd rather not think about it."

"Of course," she said agreeably, gaze knowing. "I don't know how long you'll be here. In the Hospital Wing. But I brought you those Ancient Runes books and these," she pulled a couple of divination books from the stacks. "For Divination. I figured you might as well get caught up with all the work. I even added some notes for you."

The rest of the books, it appeared, were hers. She easily pulled them into her arms, never showing any signs of strain under their combined weight. Harry would have been more impressed if he had not seen Hermione do the same countless times.

"Get well soon," Raven said, waving as she left. How she managed to do that and balance her books, Harry did not know.

He drew one of the books on runes onto his lap. _A Beginner's Guide to Ancient Runes_ , read the cover. He might as well start somewhere. With several pieces of parchment—taken from Madam Rosemary's desk—spread out before him and a quill in hand, Harry began the daunting task of memorizing the runes.

"You still have to do homework?" Benjamin asked as he peeked at the papers. Harry hadn't even heard him approach, so caught up in the work as he was. "But you're sick!"

"But I'll be well enough soon that I can go to classes," Harry said. He gave the boy a stern glare. "Are you supposed to be here?"

"It's my free period and I asked if I could visit you!" The boy made himself comfortable beside Harry, picking up a parchment to study. "What do these lines mean?"

"They're runes," Harry explained. "I have to memorize all of them."

"This one looks like your scar," Benjamin pointed at _sowilo_.

Harry sighed. "So I've been told. Benjamin, do you know who that boy in the corner bed is?"

"Hm," Benjamin looked at where Harry was pointing, expression twisting with dislike. "That's Raynard Loire. He's Leo's step-brother. He goes to a school in France, I don't know why he's here."

"Step-brother," Harry murmured. "You don't like him?"

"He was nice before," the boy frowned, thinking back. "Mama says he's going through an ' _identity crisis_ ' because he's half-Veela. She says he doesn't like being part Veela and that if he could, he would tear that part out. It sounds really scary!"

"That does sound scary," Harry agreed. "You weren't supposed to hear that, were you?"

Benjamin pursed his lips, trying to look innocent. Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a smile.

Benjamin twiddled his thumbs. "If you're not too busy, will you help me with my homework?"

Harry paused, blinking, and glanced at the boy's pleading expression. He frowned as he looked back at the papers before him. He could take a break, he had been studying runes for the better part of two hours.

"What do you need help with? I'll do my best."

Benjamin beamed. "Charms! We learned how to make things fly but I can't get the spell to work."

"Let me see how you're doing it and we'll go from there."

Harry transfigured some parchments into feathers and taught Benjamin how to use "Wingardium Leviosa". Watching the first year concentrate on making the feathers fly brought back memories.

"Can I make more than one feather fly at the same time?" Benjamin asked, after he managed to get one floating.

"All it takes is concentration, no reason why you couldn't," said Harry. He demonstrated by levitating two feathers with ease, then three and four, and soon he had all the feathers floating in the air.

Madam Rosemary paused in her bustling, observing the scene with curiosity and fond amusement. With a wiggle of his fingers, Harry set the feathers to twirl around Benjamin and tickle at his neck, ears, and nose. The first year was soon begging for mercy around uncontrollable laughter and sneezing.

"That's brilliant, that is!" Benjamin proclaimed. "You didn't even use the spell or your wand! Can I learn to do that?"

"I don't see why not," Harry shrugged, flushing under the first year's adoring stare. "But first, you have to learn how to cast spells _with_ your wand."

"But _why_?" the boy whined.

"Because a wand helps you _focus_ your magic, so you learn how to _cast_ spells," Harry explained. He explained when the boy just gazed at him in confusion, "It's like this." He summoned forth his wand from it's holster and concentrated on a spell. Grabbing Benjamin's hand with his free hand and placing the boy's fingers at his wrist. "Do you feel that?"

Wide eyed, Benjamin nodded. "What is it?"

"That's my magic. Do you feel how it moves?" Harry moved Benjamin's hand along his wrist and palm, to the bottom of his wand. "It channels through the wand." He stopped the boy's hand near the tip of his wand, releasing the spell; a flock of small, colorful birds emerged from the wand. They dispelled into the air like smoke.

Benjamin smiled, wide and bright, "I like your magic. It sounds like a lullaby."

"Err, thank you," Harry said. He rubbed at his wrist self-consciously and put his wand back in it's holster. "Once you understand how your magic casts a spell, it'll be easy enough to learn to cast wandless spells. In my . . ." _Time_ , Harry trailed off. "At my previous school, one of the required books was _Magical Theory_. It taught everything to do with magic and how it works."

"Can I buy that book?"

"I'm not sure it's sold here," _In this time_ , Harry didn't say. He glanced around surreptitiously, leaning closer to the boy to whisper, "You can hear my magic?"

"Of course!" Benjamin said. "Almost all the Potters can do it." He leaned in to whisper as well. "Except cousin Leoned. But Dad said he's probably more Black than Potter."

"Leoned's a Black?" Harry asked, surprised. He didn't look like a Black. Harry didn't know what a Black looked like, though. Except for Sirius. Was that enough to make a comparison?

"Aunty Corona was a Black before she married Mister Loire."

"I see," Harry didn't but he wasn't going to ask further questions about it. It wasn't any of his business and it sounded like a complicated matter. Far too complicated for Benjamin to explain correctly, at least. "So it's a Potter trait then. Hearing magic?"

Benjamin gazed at him in confusion. "You didn't know that? Didn't your parents tell you?"

Harry deliberated on what to say. "My parents died when I was a baby. I lived with some Muggle relatives before coming here."

"Oh!" the boy exclaimed. He leaned against Harry's side as though to provide comfort. "You don't live with Muggles anymore? Where are you going to stay in the summer?"

"I-I'm not sure, actually," Harry replied, frowning. "The Ministry appointed someone named Aeron Zabini as my guardian-"

"Uncle Aeron is your guardian?" Benjamin cried. He was obviously overjoyed at the news and began bouncing on the bed. "Uncle Aeron and Uncle Octavius only live a few houses away from us! You can visit me in the summer!"

"That sounds great," Harry managed, baffled. "Though I'm not sure I'll be here for the summer."

Benjamin stopped bouncing abruptly, turning to face him with sad eyes. "Where are you going?"

"Back home, hopefully."

"Back home? Where are you from?"

"Mister Potter," Madam Rosemary interrupted. She did not further elaborate as to which Potter she was speaking to. From the stern way she was gazing at Benjamin, it was clear he was the one being addressed. "I believe you should be getting on to your next class."

Benjamin threw Harry a worried look.

"I'm not leaving anytime soon," Harry reassured. "I'll still be here if you need more help with your homework."

"Promise?" the boy held out his pinky, glaring at him with a stubborn look in his eyes.

"I promise," Harry interlocked his pinky with Benjamin's.

Placated for the time being, Benjamin gathered his things and bid Harry goodbye with a hug and a wave.

Harry turned the feathers back to parchments and tried to go back to studying runes. The lines swam before his eyes. Disgusted, he threw the parchments into the book and hid his head under the pillow. He was beginning to doze off when the sound of a chair scraping across the floor startled him. He took a quick peek from beneath the pillow.

"Sorry to disturb you," chirped Erian, looking apologetic even as his companion dragged another chair over. The vampire took a seat, nose wrinkling in distaste as he glared at the far corner. "Do you know who that is?"

"I've been told it's Leo's step-brother?" Harry said, unsure.

"We've only met Leoned in passing," Erian revealed. "I didn't know he had a step-brother."

"Whoever he is, he smells strange," the vampire grumbled. His eyes flashed red for a moment.

"Probably because he's half-Veela," Harry said.

"Oh!" Erian's hand moved to grasp Rodolphus' shoulder when the vampire jerked as though to get up. "Do you want to wait outside?"

Rodolphus took a deep breath and shook his head. " _Half_ -Veela."

"Rodolphus has an acute sense of smell," explained Erian at seeing Harry's bewilderment. "Veela secrete pheromones to attract mates."

"It's not a pleasing smell," Rodolphus shrugged. He leaned forward to tap the book on Erian's lap, drawing the boy's attention to it.

"Here, I brought the Transfiguration textbook you'll need for class," the brunette handed the book over. He peered curiously at the books and parchment on the bedside table, huffing a laugh when he realized what they meant. "My sister was here, was she?"

"Raven is your sister?" Harry asked.

"I was adopted," Erian revealed, unconcerned. "I don't know if we told you before but you'll remember, won't you? I heard you were having trouble focusing."

Harry thought it over. He hadn't had any problems since he woke that morning. He remembered having some trouble getting to the bathroom but the world had shifted into focus when Benjamin had appeared. He didn't know if that was some sort of clue or just a coincidence.

"I've been better," Harry admitted. "My newly-appointed guardian, who works at the Ministry, will be sending me some potion he says will help."

"The Ministry sent someone?" Erian asked, surprised. "That was quick! We thought it would take them a month or _two_."

"Who did they send?" asked Rodolphus.

"Someone named Aeron Zabini-"

"They sent Professor Zabini's husband?" Erian demanded, eyes alight with curiosity. Even the vampire turned to stare at Harry with unnatural golden eyes. "Is it true he's an elf?"

Harry grimaced at them, although he'd been trying for a smile. "Err, he said they prefer the term Drow."

Erian nodded sagely and dropped the subject. He picked up the Transfiguration textbook instead, skimming through the pages. "I made some notes of what we've studied thus far. You can look them over and see how far behind you are."

Harry read through one of the pages, furrowed eyebrows portraying his confusion. "You're learning about Animagi?"

"That's right. Is something wrong?"

"I learned about this in third year," Harry said. He remembered because that was the year he'd met Sirius, who was— _had been_ —an Animagus.

"Then you should know all about it already," Erian concluded, pleased.

Harry did, in fact, know all about it. After everything that had happened that year, he had taken the time to learn more about becoming an Animagus. Becoming an Animagus required quite a bit of patience and commitment, and a lot of time as it was a long and arduous process. Few wizards or witches ever bothered with it as it did not have many uses and they could not choose the animal whose form they took.

Though he had wanted to learn, Harry had never found the time. First had come the Triwizard Tournament, then dealing with Umbridge, and finally Sirius' death. It had become a moot point, in the end. Not worth learning if he couldn't share it with his godfather.

A hand touched his cheek. Harry blinked rapidly, realizing too late that he'd gotten caught up in memories of the past and there were tears running down his face. The hand rubbed his back and suddenly it was too much. He bent his head, hiding his face between the pages of the Transfiguration book, as his shoulders shook with his sobs.

He didn't know if he was crying for Sirius or if his situation and his frustration had finally caught up with him. He only knew that he needed to let it all out. So he did. Until his tears ran dry and Madam Rosemary was helping him to drink water from a glass.

Embarrassed by his dramatics he laid down. Pulling the blankets up to his eyes, he tried to control his breathing through the hiccoughs. A gentle hand grasped his shoulder but made no move to turn him around, for which he was grateful.

"We're here if you ever want to talk," Erian whispered. "You don't have to bear this alone."

Madam Rosemary closed the curtains around his bed. She shooed away his visitors with reassurances that she would take care of him. Silence settled around him but for the sound of his hiccoughs. His face felt flushed, due to embarrassment or thanks to the crying, he didn't know.

He fell into a fretful sleep.

_The cave was damp, cold, and empty. Despite his bare feet he walked, determined, into the darkness. There was a body of water before him. It was too dark to see how big or deep it was. But he knew this cave and he knew these waters._

_One day the waters of the cavern would hold his puppets. The reanimated corpses of his enemies. One day soon it would hold an invaluable object. For now it hid the other treasures of his younger self. Treasures which could help him. He suspended his body in the air and flew over the dark water, vanishing into the darkness of the cave._

_He couldn't breath. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe._

Harry tried to breathe and choked. There was a hand wrapped tightly around his throat. He tried to move his hands but found he couldn't move them. He couldn't even feel them, couldn't feel his legs, or any part of his body.

He stared with mounting horror as Raynard seemed to shift before his eyes, taking on a bird-like appearance. The boy seemed to come back to himself, looking human for a moment before his form turned bird-like once again. His body continued to switch forms but what frightened Harry the most was the _sound_. Like something getting torn in two. Or someone.

He realized what the boy planned when a small ball of blue light exited his mouth. He had a sudden flashback of watching a Dementor suck out Sirius' soul. He kept his mouth shut, even as the boy tightened the grip on his throat. He renewed his efforts to fight off whatever magic was holding him down.

"This is for the best," Raynard gasped, using his other hand to pinch Harry's nose, successfully cutting off his air.

Whatever type of magic it was that held his body captive; it was slippery. Harry struggled to undo the invisible straps even as he struggled to hold his breath.

_Just a little more_ , he thought desperately. But he couldn't hold his breath that long. The magical straps came undone just Harry gasped for breath, dizzy. Something warm slid down his throat. Blindly, he threw his hand out.

Things broke and someone screamed. He fell over the side of the bed, crying out in pain and shock when he hit his head on the side of the table. He struggled for _something_. What, he didn't know. He only knew something strange was happening. There was a painful warmth spreading through his body. It felt like he was on fire.

He tried to find purchase on the floor but his claws only scraped against the surface.

His _claws?_

Hands were on him. Turning him around. Holding him down.

He struggled against whoever was touching him. Fighting to keep his mouth shut even as cool, refreshing liquid splashed over his lips. He heard whispers of a spell being cast and tried to fight it off but he was too tired, too weak, and it pulled him down into the darkness.

_Harry didn't know where he was. His first guess that he was at Hogwarts had turned out to be only partly correct. He had opened a door and found himself in the Dursley's living room. He was certain the Dursley's living room was not part of Hogwarts. Unless he was in the Room of Requirement, which he doubted._

_Opening another door led him to King's Cross station. Or a cleaner version of it, anyway. One door led to a classroom he remembered from his childhood. Yet another door led to Diagon Alley._

_By the time he finished looking through doors, Harry was fairly certain he was dreaming. It would explain the complete lack of sense._

_While he waited to wake up he took a stroll through Diagon Alley. A quirky, strange version of Diagon Alley. Flourish and Blotts was in place of_ _Eeylops Owl Emporium and was that The Leaky Cauldron where Gringotts used to be?_

_Harry decided that made about as much sense as everything else. Like the moon that shone brightly in place of the sun, the signs written in runes, and the random Union Flag that merrily danced despite the complete lack of wind._

_The street was eerily silent. Harry had an impression of sound; signs creaking in the wind, various people talking, a dog barking. But there was no wind, there were no people, and there was no dog._

_Were all dreams this strange?_

_He managed to get into Flourish and Blotts eventually. He had tried, at first, to enter the shop with a sign that read "Flourish and Blotts". But that door had led him into Broomstix. The entrance to Broomstix led him to a cauldron shop whose name Harry did not know. It was the door to Ollivanders that led into Flourish and Blotts in the end._

_Harry was disappointed—and a bit embarrassed, to be honest_ — _to discover that most of the books in the shop were blank. There were a fair few Quidditch books that had words from start to finish but all the others were perfectly blank._

_He took one of the Quidditch books. He was rather sure he did, at least. But when he took a seat at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, there was no book in his hands. Frustrated, he lay his head upon the table, praying for someone to wake him up. Dreams were terrible nonsense._

_He realized he wasn't laying his head on the table and pulled back, surprised when an ice cream cone fell from his head. Gingerly, he touched his forehead but found no trace of ice cream and the cone had already vanished. There was a bowl of ice cream on the table before him instead. But no spoon for him to eat it with._

_As soon as he thought it, a fork appeared near his hand._

_A fork?_

_Harry decided that it would do and grasped it firmly, lest it vanish. He wondered what ice cream tasted like in dreams. He figured he would have to keep wondering when he noticed that there was no ice cream in the bowl any longer._

_It didn't even bother him anymore, he decided. He threw the fork—no, it was a knife—on top of the table._

_He headed for The Leaky Cauldron next. Perhaps the way in was the way out? It would have made sense anywhere but in a dream, as Harry ended up in the Owl Emporium instead._

"You're strange," _came a voice from behind him._

_Startled, Harry turned, almost falling over. Coming face to face with . . . bars. Bars?_

_Harry took a step back. There was a human sized cage in the Owl Emporium. With a human sized bird caged inside._

"I've been watching you running around out there," _the bird said, gesturing at the window._ "You look frustrated."

"I _am_ frustrated," _Harry replied. Or thought he did. His voice sounded so far away. He took a closer look at the bird. Or part-bird creature, whatever he was. He had an almost human face with crystal clear eyes that seemed rather familiar to Harry._

_The cage was big enough to allow the bird to stand but there was not enough room for him to spread his wings. He stood, not like a bird, but like a human. Despite the feathers, claws, talons, and the beak, Harry thought the bird was beautiful._

"Why are you in that cage?" _Harry asked._

"He put me here," _the bird shrugged._

_Harry realized abruptly why the bird seemed so familiar._ "Raynard Loire?"

_The bird was silent._

Not a bird _, Harry thought._ A Veela _. He recalled with sudden clarity the piece of soul that Raynard had torn from himself._

"What did he do to you?" _Harry frowned at the chains that wrapped about the bird's feet, shackling him to the cage._

"Wasn't him that did this," _the Veela murmured. He observed, confused, as Harry tried to tamper with the lock._ "What are you doing?"

"I can't just leave you in there," _Harry frowned. He wished he knew how to lockpick. All he could do was pull at the lock in frustration._

"Just leave it," _the Veela argued._

_Harry glared at him, still pulling at the lock._ "I can't just leave you in there!"

"You don't know what you're doing. Even if you somehow manage to get me out of this cage, you don't know what the consequences are."

"I don't care about the consequences. It's not right!" _Harry pulled harder. The metal creaked under his constant assault._

"Stop! If you release me from this cage, our souls will touch!" _Harry paused, blinking at the bird in confusion. Did the Veela know how_ intimate _he made that sound?_ "Our knowledge and our memories will be interchanged. We'll know everything about each other."

_Harry frowned but he did not hesitate._ "We'll just have to live with the consequences then. Because I'm not. Leaving. You. In. There!"

_They were both surprised when the lock gave away after a great pull from Harry. The cage began to vanish into the air, along with the shackles. Everything around them vanished._

_Suddenly, Harry understood._

When Raynard Loire was five years old, he received a surprise visit from his cousin, Azure.

Azure was a rare, pureblood male Veela. Their mothers, Veelas, had been sisters. Azure's mother, Amora, had abandoned him on the streets. So Raynard's father, Tristan, had asked the Delacours, relatives of his, to adopt him.

Rayn liked to play with Azure, who was only a year older than him. Until that day.

Rayn had been playing outside in the garden when Azure had pulled him away. There was someone who wanted to meet him.

She had been beautiful. Azure's mother. She had reminded Rayn of his own mother, who had recently passed away. She had seemed so kind in the beginning. Until she'd torn his soul apart, trapping half of it in a cage.

Unable to reach that part of himself had slowly driven Rayn mad. He had come to believe that giving the caged half away would fix everything.

_Harry understood that the boy was cursed. Even if he tried to give the Veela back, that half of Rayn's soul would simply end up in a cage again. What kind of woman would do such a thing to a child?_

_Harry blinked away the memories that weren't his. There was wind rushing through his hair. An impression of wind, at least._

"Are we flying?" _he shouted. It was a dumb question, seeing that he was far up in the air, and the land was far below. Obviously they were flying. Unless the dream had gone topsy-turvy and the ground was the sky. Which seemed just as likely given the circumstances._

_The Veela laughed, joyful and free._ "It's not the same as flying for real. But I never learned how to fly for real, so this will have to do."

"Oh, Merlin," _Harry held on to the bird's hands. Claws. Whatever!_

_But it did feel liberating. He would have to see about borrowing a broom and going for a fly sometime. If Madam Rosemary gave him permission or let him out of her sight after this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [What Veela!Rayn looks like.](http://barrakhudda.deviantart.com/art/Bird-people-sheet-367836906)
> 
> Confused? I'll be answering questions on [my tumblr](http://liliume-writes.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Dreams are made of nonsense.


	6. A/N

**UPDATE 05/25/17** \- I want to thank everyone for their words of encouragement and understanding. I love writing so much and it sucks that I haven't been able to do it. I love writing and wish I could keep doing it because it's the only thing that makes me happy and I need some of that right now.

I also want to thank the people who sent me money through Paypal. I'd forgotten about that account as I only used it once to pay for something online. There are no words to express how thankful I am that anyone would do that out of the kindness of their hearts. I might have cried a little (a lot) when I received the email. So thank you so much, I actually used the money to eat.

To those who told me to get a Patreon or Gofundme, I wouldn't even know where to start, much less what I would give back. I have nothing to offer in return.

My life is fail. I got a 2nd job in order to be able to pay for things but I was unprepared for how much work it was all going to be. I have a new appreciation for people who manage to work two jobs, I just don't know how you do it. My feet swelled like balloons and I had to call in to both jobs because the swelling is just not going down. I guess I'm not built for standing 16 hours a day. Seriously, how do people manage two jobs?? When do you sleep?? I've barely worked a week at my second job and I might have to quit. I'm just feeling sorry for myself now and trying to figure out what I'm going to do.

Also.

I was driving in the rain behind a semi down the highway. The semi was throwing so much water at me that I switched to the other lane. Unfortunately, my tires are shit because I don't have the money for new ones. So I hydroplaned into a ditch and had to pay the tow truck company $250 to get my car back, which was, thankfully, ok to drive. My dad was kind enough to pay the fee and I have to pay him back. And it was a little bit of luck that the police who helped me out of the car didn't ask to see proof of insurance because my auto insurance expired and I couldn't keep paying for it. Then I had to replace a light bulb for the car, which cost $90 for Goodyear to put in for me (because they had to remove the bumper and unscrew a bunch of things that I couldn't do myself).

And it's amazing how things just add up until you can't dig yourself out, you just keep digging yourself into a deeper hole. It's not like I don't try to dig myself out but nothing seems to be going my way and I'm tired of waiting for things to turn around, for my luck to change.

PS. This is not a goodbye letter o-o, I am not at that point. In fact, I doubt I'd ever be at that point because the last thing I want to do is hurt my loved ones. I'd sooner run myself into the ground trying to keep working than do anything else.

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This will be replaced with the real chapter sometime in the future, perhaps. Until further notice, this story is on hold.

I've been struggling for a while. Not with writing but with life in general. A couple of years ago, my appendix burst and I was admitted to the hospital for a couple of weeks as they drained the blood out. Doctors decided that they'd leave the appendix there as it would be more trouble to remove it but warned me that it could burst again. I don't have any medical know-how, so I trust the doctors know what they're talking about. Then I got flooded, lost my car and had to get a new one. My string of bad luck didn't end there. I had a flat tire, had to get windows replaced, basement cleaned out, objects replaced, and more. A bunch of little things that just piled up until I'm struggling to even pay my rent. Which, awesome. Now I'm being told that since I missed one payment on my eletric bill (after they'd set me up with a lower bill plan), that I have to pay the full amount of what I'm tardy on, which is $1500 or so. I don't have that kind of money, so I'm prolly going to lose my electricity. Great!

I'm super stressed, depressed, and barely hanging in there. So I'm sorry that I haven't updated any of my stories in two years, but honestly, at this point, I have more important things to worry about. I'm so sorry everyone!


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